As you know, I really love language. Lately, I've gotten hooked into online social groups for my hometown of Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania, many of which include extended conversations on our peculiar dialect ("Did yinz red up the room 'n at before yinz went dahntahn?"). Here's a poem on the subject of how we talk "where we come from" ...
Where I Come From
by Sally Fisher
but lightning bugs.
We didn't say carousel
but merry-go-round.
Not seesaw,
teeter-totter
not lollipop,
sucker.
We didn't say pasta, but
spaghetti, macaroni, noodles:
the three kinds.
We didn't get angry:
we got mad.
And we never felt depressed
dismayed, disappointed
disheartened, discouraged
disillusioned or anything,
even unhappy:
just sad.
I'm sad about most of what I hear in the news, but I'm happy yinz are all my friends.
Have a good day and enjoy the rest of your weekend. Wash your hands often. More thoughts coming.
Bilbo
5 comments:
Funny thing: that was my vocabulary too!
It seems that our vocabulary is different dependent on where we live. A really nice poem!
Very nice! I like it a lot.
So, do you drink soda or pop? (I started saying "soda pop" or "soft drink" in college because I had a roommate from Philly and one from Pittsburgh and they always argued over which one it was. and don't get me started on how "Coke" became a generic word for soft drinks: "You wanna Coke?" "Sure." "What flavor?" "Orange, please."
Same words in St. Louis except yinz. I don't know if I've ever heard that one.
I've tracked our Pauline Hickey looney down to a user name spod1000. He's on Twitter, Pinterest, and Flickr.
Post a Comment