another post that will make people say i'm an elitist jerk

It's happening.

Jake is starting to pick up the local accent.

I noticed it a few days ago when he was singing along with Wonder Red on Super Why. "oohwl boohwl toohwl, wondahific yer tahrrific" (all, ball, tall, btw).

And then again this morning on the way to daycare "aww, a doohgahie. she is beeuteeful!".

Darnit, I was hoping it was just babytalk but he is getting better with the annunciation and it seems that letting the village raise my child is taking its toll on my eardrums.

My major beef with the local white person vernack is that everyone sounds different. There are like twenty different local accents. I'm quite sure I've mentioned this before, but mothers and daughters sound different. Sisters sound different from their brothers. Dads don't sound a thing like their sons. Italians sound different than Irish who sound different than, um, than the three other white people in South Philly. One sister who is all two-streeted out sounds like she has a mouthful of socks and another who things she is all classy (kul-e-assie) sounds like the Nanny. I don't get it.

This article suggests that children didn't want to sound like their newly immigrated parents so they changed their speech patterns and that's why everyone sounds different. Um, I would suggest that if you are embarrassed that your parents are Italian that you take off the lipliner and hairspray, hide your gold horn necklace and those doorknockers in your ears, and toss that sweatsuit you wear everyday that has "Italian Princess" airbrushed across the ass. Oops, sorry. Across the culo.

I am in love with this study because it proves to the world that I'm usually right about all things oral.

Well, most things oral. You may not agree with my fixation on peanut butter, dill pickle, and mayonnaise sandwiches. Don't knock it til you've tried it.

My major problem with the accent thing that if Jake ever ventures out in the world he is going to sound like he might need a helmet and a tiny bus to get him around. It isn't cute, it isn't professional, and it certainly isn't respected once you get out of the five -county area.

Why do I live here?, you ask. Well, the whole thing is avoidable. Or at least correctable. Not everyone talks with the accent. I'd say anywhere between 30% and 75% (depending where in the city you are) of the people born and bred here have it. Is it like that everywhere? Down in the deep South is it possible that not everyone talks all drawly? Not everyone in Fargo talks like everyone in Fargo?

Jake sometimes speaks correctly and sometimes not so much. His dad is the same way. Truth be told, me too. If I'm talking to the locals, I talk like the locals. I have this terrible habit of picking up the way someone sounds and throwing it right back at them. It's kinda rude. I'm kinda rude. I've been doing it all my life. Get me in a room full of South Philly chicks and a pitcher of apple martinis or Washington apples or the gross South Philly Chick drink du jour and I'm dragging out my consonants and screwing up my vowels with the best of them while we talk about hair and make up and boys and food and kittens and rainbows.

Oow mye gooaad! I cain't evahn bahleeive it that the Paffamarkahs oahn Arregaahn Avahenuew is gawwtenned the phokatcheeaahs ooohin sayels foahr sevendiefiave centsses. Inahhnee thin unner a doooaller is cheeahpa ('Oh my god, I can't even believe it that the Pathmark on Oregon Ave has got the foccacia on sale for seventy-five cents. Anything under a dollar is cheap.' Need a further break down? 'The grocer has foccacia on sale for seventy five cents. It is a bargain at $1'). South Philly girls can't even believe anything all the time. Everything is shocking.

So nuts.

Nuds.

Nuts.