I’ve only recently become a southerner by location, but by birth, I’m a northerner. You can even call me a “Yankee” if it helps. I’m sure I’m not the only one who’s experienced this, but it’s been interesting comparing two sides of the country. Each thinks the other is crazy.
The worst is trying to explain to friends and family up north that people in New Orleans actually do lead a normal existence – that we’re not doing body shots on Bourbon Street seven days a week, nor do we sit around and eat barbecue and greens all day.
The biggest difference is, of course, the southern vernacular. In the North, we don’t make our groceries; we buy them. All pens are full of ink. And we “come here;” we don’t “come see.” There is nowhere else that I have heard sentences completely rearranged – “what that is?” Or emphasis on syllables that make one word into two; “Tu-lane,” “out-side,” “ce-ment” or “um-brella.”
I’ve also encountered a difference in the way northerners and southerners do things. Up North, weird as it may seem, people use turn signals. They keep their medicine in the medicine cabinet, not the kitchen cabinet. They don’t have to worry about their carpet if it starts to rain. And if the bus schedule says it arrives at 3:56 p.m., that’s when it will be there, not at 4:30 p.m.
Holidays are also celebrated differently in the South. My birthday just passed, and I was not aware that it was tradition to pin money to your shirt. Once I did, strangers were pinning dollar bills to me and wishing me a happy birthday. For weddings up North you only get a police escort if you’re famous, and the only time anyone line-dances is when the electric slide comes on.
Northerners have also moved past the Civil War much faster than southerners. I am still baffled by its intense glorification down here. People in the North would think you belonged in an institution if you wanted to discuss Civil War tactics anywhere else besides a seventh grade classroom.
I have also never seen an entire state gather together to support one school. You’d think Robert E. Lee himself taught at LSU the way people defend those colors. During Mardi Gras, I saw one man waving an 8-foot Confederate flag, except it wasn’t red and blue, it was purple and gold.
On the other hand, the South has a lot of welcomed differences. People say “hi” for no reason; the younger generation puts “Miss” or “Mr.” in front of every adult’s first name; the South contains some of the best food in the world; winter only lasts about two months; and before I moved here I had never been called “sugar” by a stranger.
But the North has plenty of stereotypes. We end our sentences with “eh?” Our Oooo’s are long and our Aaaa’s are nasally, we have catch phrases like “you betcha,” “Ohhh yaa,” and “holy kripes.” And the North as a region would die out if for some reason they stopped making cheese.
At least the North and South have one thing in common; they each live up to their reputations.
