Feeling Minnesota

Uff-da, that's a lot of snow. For those of you don't reside in the great state of MN, we just had nearly a foot of the powdery white stuff dumped on us, and I'm not talking yeyo, that's a Miami thing.



"The ghetto, uhn, is everywhere you go

They say in Miami that it never snows

Now there's snow in the palm trees

Snow on the sand

It snows all day for fifty dollars a gram"

-from "Vice" by Grandmaster Melle Mel



Regrettably, this is not a post about Bolivian marching powder, I just couldn't resist putting that in there. But speaking of 'uff-dah' and other Scandinavianisms, even after living outside of Minnesota for almost a decade, I still know the lingo. In my travels I've found that Minnesotans are known for two things outside of our borders. The Mall of America, and the accent. Jesse 'the body' probably comes in at a distant third, but I think I speak for us all when I say that's a topic we are trying hard to forget. Chalk it up to long winters fueled by binge-drinking combined with a Nordic penchant for alternative political parties (who doesn't like a good party?) and you get one hellava gubernatorial hang-over. And perhaps hotdish, out-of-staters like to make fun of our hotdish.

The accent though, there's no getting away from that stereotype anytime soon. Popularized by films such as 'Drop Dead Gorgeous' and 'Fargo' (notice I didn't include 'Feeling Minnesota' because frankly Keanu Reeves never sounds like anyone other than a stoned California surfer dude no matter what the part is, and Cameron Diaz has about as much acting skill as my big toe) the trademark accent that is characterized by emphatic, drawn-out pronunciations of the long 'O' as in "Don'cha know" and "Minnesota, but also by such linguistic gems as, "what'cha doin' there then?" and the proverbial "Yaaa."

When in casual conversation it came out that I grew up in Fargo, the invariable response was, "Like the movie Fargo? Do people really talk like that?" To which I would have to respond in the affirmative. Then I would deploy my best Minnesota accent and tell the story of how, in 1971, Robert Asp built a Viking ship in a potato warehouse near Hawley, MN. Unfortunately he died before he could consummate his dream but his family sailed it all the way to Bergen, Norway in his memory. People were usually pretty impressed by that so I tell them if you ever find yourself in the Fargo-Moorhead area stop by the Hjemkomst Center and check it out.

Now all you Twin Citians (Twin City-ites?) are at this point saying one of two things to yourselves. Either you're in denial and your thinking, "people only talk like that in the bucolic parts of the state, we city slickers have no discernible accent," or you own up, have a good chuckle, and say, "damn that JC if he isn't spot on (again)." You know who you are.

I've been told time and again that I don't have a Minnesota accent, but fill me with copious amounts of adult beverages and/or put me amidst my kinfolk and it will come out heavier than a snowstorm in February. In fact, in these instances I'll often exaggerate for effect. The reality is that I'm quite proud to be a Minnesotan even though it's very un-Minnesotan to display one's pride publicly. Something to do with good ol' Scandinavian humility don'cha know.