Friday, March 18, 2005 this woman over in Paintsville
Early, early. Too early for me, but I have to leave in a minute or two and go to a meeting at work about insurance, which it turns out I'm practically incapable of pronouncing correctly. It's in-SUR-ance, n'est-ce pas? Every time I open my mouth to say it, it comes out IN-surance whether I want it to or not.
I have no right to the southern accent that surfaces sometimes. I was raised in a barn, of course, but although it was located beneath the Mason-Dixon line, it was not a southern barn, per se.
There were only a handful of people in my world growing up. One was from Virginia, one was from Brooklyn, NY (must've been a hipster), and one was a fellow child. Every other role was a walk-on for years and years. With no TV (TEE-vee), I can only surmise that the inappropriate emphasis and drawl comes from every grocery clerk and man on the street I encountered for fifteen minutes in my early years.
One day, I will make a hipster country album like Loretta Lynn did recently, and I will tell this story over a swishy beat and really fast. posted by Frenz | 3/18/2005 07:54:00 AM
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