I Do Not Have an Accent

I do not have an accent.

Or, rather, I prefer to think that I do not have an accent while speaking English. When I speak Spanish? Sure, I have an accent (maybe "yanqui"). When I speak in Georgia? Sure, I have an accent (maybe "smart"). When I speak about cars? Sure, I have an accent (probably "ignorant lady-boy").

I'm no linguist (cunning or otherwise) but I think that most people who grow up speaking one way and are surrounded by folks that speak that way tend to think of themselves as accent-free at some level. There are always outsiders who talk funny, don't drink tea, and/or don't find impregnation of first cousins acceptable.

In my defense, though, the U.S. is the dominant English-speaking country in the world (with apologies to India, which has far more English speakers but are more likely to be mocked than emulated)... and I speak the way people on TV speak. Newscasters sound like I do, non-regional or -ethnical characters sound like I do. Heck, going back to India, call centers train people to sound like I do.

Not exactly like me, of course. But close enough.

Over time I've noticed some weird subtleties in the way I speak.

"Merry Christmas, Mary! When are you getting married?"

I say "merry," "Mary," and "married" pretty much the same way. I say "ferry" and "fairy" the same way. My vowels tend to be flat and, if they are nuanced, I am pretty unaware of them.

Compare that, though, to some of the people I've experienced in my life. My neighbor's mother when I was growing up would pronounce an invisible "r":

"It's time to warsh the car before I drive up to Seattle, Warshington."

My ex (I still only have one "ex," which is weird, but that observation is too tangential even for me to tackle in this blog entry) dropped an "l" inexplicably:

"Did you see that woof? It howled and then ran off."

I thought maybe it was a Michigan accent thing, but... no. She was (or is, presumably, although I'm not sure) just weird like that.

A year or two ago, I was having a drink with Jelly and we were talking (and I was listening; I know it's a miraculous thing for a guy to do when an attractive single woman is getting intoxicated in front of his very eyes) and I picked up on a similar idiosyncrasy: she changes an "a" to an "e" in many words:

"I pledge allegiance to the fleg."
"It's in the beg."
"You are such a feg."
"Teg, you're it!"

Why? Why does she do that? And how had no one EVER noticed (or at least commented on it) before? She denied it, at first, but she eventually (over the course of me pestering her for 20+ minutes) relented that, yes, she does it but that it's correct. She now treasures her minor speech impediment as a badge of courage. You go, Jelly.

Of course when you venture outside of the region, things get more weird. Texans and Cajuns and New Yorkers and New Englanders and robots... things get weird.

They get crazy, though, when you consider the British Commonwealth. Canada is "soh-ry" that it only speaks English "ah-boot" right... they live too close to me to speak so oddly.

Recently Canberry explained some differences between how Aussies (her people) and Kiwis (think: Flight of the Conchords) pronounce things. (It's all about vowel confusion; Kiwis seem to read a vowel and then substitute another one for it.) I'm still working on understanding Aussies v. Brits; I think that the British are more lyrical with their pronunciation, but... I'm working on it, OK?

Don't even get me started on South Africa. They Afrikaan't speak English very well, as far as I'm concerned.

I'm not sure how this blog degenerated into me jingoistically making puns about a people on the other side of the world, but I'm sure they deserved it.

dee - ZERVED it.