This past weekend, while playing pick-up basketball at my gym, I got into a conversation about places of origin. See, the big joke out here in Portland is that everyone is from some place other than Portland. The only thing is, it’s not so much of a joke, because I literally went two years without meeting anyone who was born and raised here.
Granted, I don’t get out much, but that’s still a long time. I met people from the east coast, a bunch of people from the midwest and people from California, but none that were actually from Portland.
Anyway, during this conversation, I mentioned that I’m from Minnesota. The guy was flabbergasted. “You were born there?” he asked, “But you don’t have the accent.”
I knew what was coming.
“You know, like the movie Fargo, ‘Yah sure, you betcha’ and all that.”
Yes, I know what you’re talking about. No, I don’t appreciate it. I speak english. Americanized english, to be sure, but english none the less. I then proceeded to educate him on the fact that not everyone from the upper midwest talks like a rawboned, yeoman Scandanavian farmer. There are shades of gray to the way we speak, just like any place else.
So, our little discussion got me to thinking about a piece I wrote quite awhile ago about the misconceptions that people have about those of us from the upper midwest, Minnesota and the Dakotas in particular. I thought that now would be as good a time as any to dust it off and present it to you, my beloved Sod readers.
Enjoy!
I grew up in Northern Minnesota. Rural Northern Minnesota. Actually, now that I think about it, that’s a redundant statement. If I remember properly, there wasn’t a city (or town, technically), aside from Duluth, in the northern 1/3 of the state that was inhabited by over 15,000 people. This of course isn’t too surprising, since the state’s entire population is under 9 million and over half of that comes from Minneapolis and St. Paul. Or, as we call them, The Twin Cities, or, more frequently, The Cities.
You didn’t even need to designate what cities, they were just The Cities.
Anyway, Minnesotans have long been known in popular culture for their vocal eccentricities. Sure, Bahston has theirs, New Yawk has theirs, the Sowth has theirs. Every region has different distinctive hiccups in their regional dialects. Most of the world assumes that us Minnesotans all look and act like Dauber from the TV show Coach. We all know that these, for the most part, aren’t entirely true. But, when you hear someone in full regional accent, you can’t help but make that connection.
Most of us have what my professors in college called “American Broadcast English.” It’s the plainspoken voice of America, flat as the Great Plains, sweet as a summer breeze and deep as rolling thunder on the horizon. The term comes from the fact that so many national news anchors were from the Midwest. Tom Brokaw, for example, was born in South Dakota and got his start in broadcasting in Omaha, Nebraska. Johnny Carson, while not a news anchor, was from Nebraska. The more liberal-minded of you will also know that radio personality Ed Shultz rose to prominence in Fargo and Grand Forks and comedian-cum-Senatorial candidate Al Franken is from Minnesota.
I used to have a bit of the long “o” syndrome(Minne-soooo-ta), but it came and went. One of the fun things about having no discernible dialect is that you learn to pick up other regional dialects very quickly and lose them just as fast. If I hung out with a bunch of New Yorkers for a week, you wouldn’t be able to tell us apart. But, take me aside for a few minutes, and I’d be back at square one.
If any of you have seen the movie Fargo, you’ll have a good start on some of our quirks. Joel and Ethan Coen grew up in Minnesota, so they knew what they were doing. They just took it a bit too far. I guess that’s what happens when you go to Hollywood. Of course, Minnesotans all hated that movie, because it made us look bumbling and stupid. We’re also not all bumbling and stupid. We’re just…Minnesotan. Oh, and we don’t shove people into woodchippers. That’s just rude. We prefer a more passive-aggressive way of revenge, like not calling you back or not sending you a Christmas card. We’re diabolical that way.
Minnesotans have, on average, great senses of humor. You have to when you live in an area where it can get as cold as -50º. We elected Jesse Ventura as our governor, for pete’s sake! Stuart Smalley is running for one of our Senate seats. We have a damn good sense of humor and a laid-back outlook on life. Just don’t make fun of the way we talk.
Where does all of this linguistic strangeness come from, you ask?
It comes from Norway. And Sweden. All of Scandinavia, really. Norsk is very “oh” heavy. Just listening to people talk on the street and in the pubs when I visited Oslo, I thought that I had been transplanted back to some of my childhood visits to my great-grandparent’s house, and both of them had forgotten most of the language by the time I came around.
Tragically, the Minnesota accent is often mistaken for the comical Canadian accent popularized by the McKenzie Brothers in the movie Strange Brew, which, for the most part, is real. Honestly. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve had people shout “Take off, ya hoser!” at me after they find out I’m from Minnesota, but you can probably guess that it’s the same amount of times I’ve forced myself to bite my lip and use all of my will-power to stop the forward motion of my fist.
Note: Minnesotans DO NOT like being compared to their neighbors to the north. Don’t EVER do this. We’re usually too nice to punch you in the face, but you don’t want to take that chance. Plus, we hold grudges like you wouldn’t believe. We’re still angry that the North Stars moved to Dallas. I’m betting that we’ll be pissed about the Kevin Garnett trade to the Celtics until at least the year 2030, and don’t even get me started on Hershel Walker …
Sure, the our speech is punctuated with the expected “yah’s” and “ohh yah’s” and even the wonderful, “Oh sure, yah betcha’s.” No one is going to argue that with you. We say them, we know we say them, so what?
Here’s a few other gems-
A-yuh: sure, why not?
You Betcha: general agreement – “Oh yeah, you betcha.”
Oh yah: usually used to express agreement, inflection can vary the meaning of the statement that follows
Doncha Know: commonly found at the end of a statement, such as “He’s out in the field, doncha know?
occasionally found at the beginning of a sentence, as in “And doncha know it, he ate all the
lutefisk!”
Pert-neer: pretty close or just about – “I pert-neer lost my finger cuttin’ that lefse.”
Uff-da: an expression of disgust, frustration or exhaustion. Example – “Uff-da, I’m pooped!”
Ahhkey: proper, Minnesotan pronounciation of the sport of “Hockey.” (Next time you drive around your neighborhood, notice how many parks have basketball courts or sand volleyball courts…now replace all of them with hockey rinks. I’m not even kidding, they’re everywhere!)
Nort Dakota: that state to the west of Minnesota. There is no “H” in Nort Dakota. This rule does not follow for South Dakota, as there isn’t any reason to mention South Dakota.
Minnesota’s dialect is also punctuated by long “O’s.” It’s not Minnesota, it’s Minne-sooo-ta.
Most women in Minnesota suffer from what is commonly called, “Oh-fer Syndrome.” This means that most of their statements will be proceeded by an “Oh-fer.” Such as:
“Oh-fer cute!”
“Oh-fer sad!”
“Oh-fer silly!”
These are always said in a high-pitched voice, no matter what the subject matter.
There are other regional quirks that aren’t necessarily language-related, such as the Farmer Wave (with hand on top of the steering wheel, you raise one finger and nod), the Ole and Lena joke (always told with an overly-heavy Scandinavian accent) and constant good-natured ribbing of anything Polish. Pollack jokes are almost as popular as Ole and Lena jokes.
