Why Do People Have Accents Anymore?

I’ve had quite a tour of this half of the United States so far this summer, as far east as the Outer Banks of North Carolina as far west as Elgin, Illinois, as far south as Atlanta and as far north as Holland, Michigan. What blows me away, even more so than my own travel skills (I’ve taken more public transportation in the last month than I knew existed in this country) is the difference in the way people talk.

Within fifteen minutes of meeting people during training in Illinois, and getting ever worse the more time I spent with my Michiganian friends, I was pronouncing my “O”s the long way, as in the way someone from Minnesota says “Minnesota” (on a semi-related note, if you ever want a laugh, get a Minnesotan to say “diaper bag). It’s like the pronunciation is contagious, and I incorporate it so fast and so strongly that as late as this Thursday evening, ten days after I’d left Holland, Lydia told me to “stop saying [my] ‘o”s like that,” without me even so much as mentioning that I’d noticed myself doing it.

Another experience with a Michigander (yes, that’s also another correct demonym) brought local accents and phrases to my attention, but this time the other way around. Sarah W.1 made fun of my for saying “y’all.” Of course, I made fun of her right back for being unable to pronounce it. Being a typical northerner she said it closer to “yoll,” which is quite a difference: the apostrophe is both necessary and distinguishable to anyone on this side of the Mason-Dixon.

In many countries, certain areas are totally isolated, whether simply from each other or from everywhere. In the United States, where we functionally have one language (though we do not and should not have an “official” language), it seems strange that that single language can change so much from place to place. Not so strange, you might say, with the size and diversity of the United States. But everyone watches the same T.V.

That’s really what boggles my mind. While it’s understandable that most non-natives wouldn’t guess the proper pronunciation of Moyock2, because there’s not much reason to hear the word. But it’s mind-boggling that nobody in Wisconsin can actually say “Wisconsin.” Of course, they’d say nobody outside Wisconsin can say “Wisconsin,” but I say the majority rules. (I’m joking, but you get the point).

Once in a while I’ll catch myself saying a long “I” in true southern fashion. I don’t mind it so much (or here in North Carolina, “I don’t miiiiiind,” or in Mississippi, “I don’t maaaaaand,”) when I’m here, but I try to force myself to say it correctly so I don’t sound like a redneck when I’m outside of my redneck hometown (despite giving a tutorial a fortnight ago about the usage of “you, y’all and all y’all”). I would think, though, that since you don’t hear national newscasters saying “Tonaaaaaght’s top story…” that everyone would catch themselves after a while and slowly morph their language into a more accent-neutral English.

Language, though, tends to be a jealously-defended personal aspect that we tie to our own personalities. For instance, I’ve grown up in the south, and look how I defended my own use of the contraction “y’all,” (wow, that turned into a great example- it’s almost like I thought of it beforehand). I wanted to say to Sarah “Don’t you listen to rap?”, knowing that she was thinking “People really say “y’all” in real life?”, which just goes to further both points, that we hang on to our local language idiosyncrasies (“we” meaning east coast rappers in this example, and thus not necessarily being inclusive of me), but also that technology, specifically mass media, ought to neutralize that, though it only does it to the extent that you can point to it in defense. Despite the connotations of southern accents, hip-hop slang, and mid-westerners’ inability to speak at all3 regional accents persist, and both boggle my mind (or bottle it) and entertain.

 

1As opposed to other Sara(h)s that are a part of my life: A., B., C., C., D., F., G., H., M., M., M., O., T. or mom.
2It’s mo?j?k, if you were wondering, or MO-yock if you can’t read IPA symbols or your computer isn’t displaying these.
3Just kidding.4
4And then, not really.

Ad follow-up

In case you’re reading somewhere other than dp.n, this post references this.

Total endoresment here. FedEx. Best commercial ever. They played it in fast-forward and said (and I’m paraphrasing just slighty) “Instead of our commercial, get back to your show, your time is valuable.” Waaaay better than the repetative vacuum thing. Thanks, FedEx.

Ad variety… add variety

My return to daily writing is going to be celebrated by a rant. And by two observations. Because one forces me to write in too much detail for me to do it at odd hours of the night, and because I just like hanging a Louie halfway through.

Because I like putting off other things, and because I’m totally addicted, I’ve been watching episodes of House online. I haven’t decided if I’m going endorse my (legal) viewing site yet, but I’ll de-endorse its advertising. Every time there would be a commercial break on TV, one commercial comes on. The same commercial.

After the third time I watched the Hoover Platinum Collection commercial, I was pretty tired of it. By the sixth or seventh, I was wondering what exactly it is about House that makes advertising execs think the people watching it want to buy a vacuum. Granted, I began watching House because my mom was always watching it, and she’s a lot more likely to buy a vacuum than I am, evidenced both by the fact that she owns multiple vacuums and that her presence or my then-girlfriend’s was the only thing that got me or Anthony to vacuum our room in Greensboro.

In fact, not only do I spend two hours watching House most weeknights (an amount of time I haven’t spent in front of the TV in a looong time), I’m watching it on the internet. When the heck am I going to vacuum? I just don’t think I’m their target audience.

Point number two: I was annoyed enough by and inattentive enough to the commercial that I will obviously remember it. But even aside from the fact that I act on that by writing a silly blog post about it, if my related actions were (like most people’s would be) confined to my buying habits, annoyance isn’t the emotion I’d be going for when selling a product. So why advertising execs think that much repetition is a good idea.

I truly believe that free (and even cheap) web hosting would have died out a long time ago if it hadn’t been for super-heavy initial investment by people who thought the related advertising would take off. Even half the free web hosting sites don’t have banners anymore, because nobody wants to bother with worthless website advertising. Except for that same whole investment phenomenon, I’d worry that internet TV would go the same way, as it’s funded by commercials the same way real TV is.

My analysis, of course, hinges on the fact that I’m mostly immune to advertising anyway. I don’t shop, I don’t pay attention to commercials unless they are for a product I had not previously known existed (the one and only case in which I believe advertising effects me and accomplishes its goal) or for a product which I already know, love, and regularly support in a monetary or temporal fashion, and in which case the advertising is wasted. Either way, I’m both annoyed at repetition and very glad that the advertising world just hasn’t figured out how to really work their magic online (maybe those ads are better than I give them credit for, but placement is still all wrong, whether this blogger is giving them more coverage or not). It means I’ll be watching House from my computer for a long time.

Sappy Realization

So you know the main character’s group of amazingly tight friends on your favorite T.V. show and how you always wish you had 4 or 5 people constantly around you that all of you can finish each others’ sentences and say hilarious stuff and make your problems totally better in the span of 30 minutes? (I love that you’re looking back to make sure that was all a single sentence and deserved a question mark at the end.)  Yeah, so I’ve discovered I’ve already got that group of friends.

You could make a sitcom out of the drama and general hilarity I deal with on a daily basis, even though not everyone is still in one place together all the time anymore. How many times does anyone else get to console someone whose boyfriend cheated on them with a man? Or play beer pong with somebody AND their dad? Or have friends who actually let you play beer pong with a designated drinker (or five)?

Thanksgiving was in many ways unresolved, but in that Kevin-Arnold-I-Learned-It’s-Okay-At-The-End-Anyway sort of way. The girl of my dreams is still sticking to ignoring me. Two more of my friends have thrown morals and common sense to the wind. My sinuses still hate me because of the massive amount of Black & Mild smoke four days ago. But somehow in the course of the last six or seven years, the group of people I still hang out with has changed from a baker’s dozen or so slightly dorky teenagers trying desperately to fit in even amongst themselves into a group of relatively respectable young adults that are extremely comfortable with each other. One of them even spent most of an evening last week caressing my chest. She probably doesn’t remember, which is probably good for me since I sorta let her. That’s pretty comfortable.

There’s so much we didn’t say to each other in high school. There’s so much we don’t have to now. But no matter where our paths take us, how far apart we are, it’s nice to be able to just pick up where we left off whenever we are together. I don’t always participate in everything some of you do, nor agree with it. But even when I’m driving 3 more people than are legally allowed in my car at one time on a public road to 7-11 at 3am and complaining about it all the way…

I appreciate my friends. So thanks.