, , , , ,

Okay, so I’m a bit of a snob. I can admit it (I just did).

I admitted (somewhat reluctantly) the gaffe I made simply because I repeated what I heard instead of thinking about how the word I used made absolutely no sense. At all. The phrase should have been “boot heel” – as in the “boot heel” of Missouri. Here, I’ll show you.

If you close one eye, you can sort of see the little flick at the bottom right-hand corner. It helps if you’re a little drunk (that applies to living here, too). That little flick? That’s the boot heel. But for my entire life, what I heard people say (including teachers) is “boot hill.”  And so it happened that in a conversation with MoC about the evils of southern Missouri, I said something about the boot hill. MoC got this look on her face, like she had a sharp chest pain, and said, “You mean boot heel?” Then she cried.

Speaking of Missouri, there’s no A in Missouri. It’s pronounced Missour-eeee, not Missour-uh. That (wrong) pronunciation is a southern thang. It’s like Arkansas is contagious.

The other day, I realized I’ve gotten lazy. I’ve been fooling myself for all these years.

I have a southern twang drawl.

I never say hello or hi. I always say hey. I can’t bring myself to tell you how often I say y’all. If I’m tired, or not thinking, I say “Ah” instead of “I.” Sometimes the word “line” comes out more like “lan” – I’ve even caught myself saying “caint” instead of “can’t.”

I draw the “lan” at “conversate” and “irregardless.”

I have some standards.