While there is and can be no single formal definition of General American, various features are considered to be part of it, including rhotic pronunciation, which maintains the coda [r] in words like pearl, car, and court. Unlike RP, General American is characterized by the merger of the vowels of words like father and bother, flapping, and the reduction of vowel contrasts before [?]. General American also generally has yod-dropping after alveolar consonants. Other phonemic mergers, including the cot-caught merger, the pin-pen merger, the Mary-marry-merry merger and the wine-whine merger, may be found optionally at least in informal and semiformal varieties; however, the most formal varieties tend to be more conservative in preserving these phonemic distinctions.I definitely display rhotic pronunciation (i.e. I pronounce my rs) and flapping (i.e. metal and medal sound very similar when I say them), and father and bother rhyme when I say them. I'm a bit iffy on the cot-caught merger--I seem to waver in whether they sound the same or not. I'm thoroughly off the fence on pin vs. pen--there's a clear distinction between them in my speech. Mary, marry, and merry all sound the same, and wine and whine tend to, too. By comparison, I have very little in common with the characteristics of Southern American English although I'm familiar with and can readily imitate many of the pronunciations/tendencies discussed within the article. With few if any exceptions, the pronunciations are things that I've heard but never really done myself. I did note one grammatical tendency that I do still use, namely: "The so called inceptive get/got to (indicating that an action is just getting started), as in the phrase "I got to talking to him and we ended up talking all night." Get to is more frequent in older SAE, and got to in newer SAE." I do think that I will still use got to on occasion. Another one that I will admit to is the use of dove as the past tense for dive. I do have to admit, though, that dived sounds absolutely atrocious to my ears. They also mention drug as the past tense for drag, and I'm sad to say that I did use that one at one time. I typically catch that one now. The same can be said for dropping the -ly off of my adverbs. In terms of Southern word usage, I have used yonder in the past, but it's not something that comes up frequently, I must admit. I do love the phrase hither, thither, and yon, though. And I must answer a positive both on the roley-poleys instead of woodlouse and crawdad instead of crawfish or crayfish. My cousin and I used to chase those in the creek, which, incidentally, I do not pronounce as crik. I do not, however, call shopping carts buggies or jitnies or trolleys. That would just be silly. I think that sums up my phonemic discoveries of the day. From there my Wikipedia search derailed into the descriptions of the Ozark Mountains where I grew up. It was interesting to see them refer to the Boston Mountains and Shepherd of the Hills country. Those are certainly terms I don't hear outside of the Ozarks. One of these days I should really take some time to recount some of my favorite parts of growing up in the Ozarks. For awhile, I was very interested in the history of the area--a situation only amplified while my mother worked at the local historical museum--and I can still tell some ghost stories and tall tales unique to the Ozarks from memory. And the Internet seems to be distinctly free of the story of Mary Calhoun. I wonder if my parents would still have the recording of that story my sister and I made when we were little...
Tag Archive for 'arkansas'
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I allowed myself to get thoroughly distracted by Wikipedia today, and it was great fun. Somehow I managed to (eventually) make my way from Guy Fawkes to a discussion of American English at which point I decided to investigate some of what Greg has said in the past about my speech patterns, and I am pleased to report that my accent seems to fit best into the category of General American, which is frequently perceived by Americans as being "accentless". I can't say that I understand the phonetic alphabet and all of the terminology used in the article, but there are several things that I do understand.
I've thought for awhile about what I should write about in my first post of the new year. I could discuss Christmas in Arkansas or my family's celebration in North Carolina. I might talk about the books I've read (Pride and Prejudice and Shadow Puppets), the shows I've watched (mainly House), the movies I've watched (Jurassic Park, The Lost World, Solaris, I,Robot), or the games I've played (backgammon, 10,000, or LOTR Trivial Pursuit). Or there's always the frustrations of those graduate school applications and online systems that don't do what they're supposed to when you need them to. But all of that aside, there's one thing I must share.
It's 27 December 2005 and my family and I are in the rental car, driving from The Middle Of Nowhere, Twenty Miles From Any Form Of Civilization™ to the airport. (Incidentally, the name of the airport is Northwest Arkansas Regional Airport, but for some reason that remains unfathomable to me, it's typically called the Fayetteville airport. Here's the bit I don't get: the airport is in Benton County. Fayetteville is not. The crews that fly there are completely unaware of the fact that the place they have landed is not Fayetteville, Arkansas. I swear that I will never understand this.) We're somewhere between Hunstville and Springdale, zooming down the two-lane highway. As we go past, we get only a glimpse, but this, ladies and gentlemen, is a sight that screams redneck more than a car on ciderblocks in the front yard and an unnatural obsession with duct tape ever will. The chassis of a car was sitting on the front lawn, which was naturally strewn with many items that the rest of the world would term junk. Several men were standing around the chassis--as I was going by at 50 mph, I didn't get much of a look at them, but you can use your imaginations here. Hanging above the chassis and the men was the swinging red body that comprised the remainder of the vehicle. There was nothing really odd about the scene until you realized how the car body was hanging there. It was winched up in a tree. Yes, the car was hanging from a tree branch.
I almost had my dad turn around so that we could get a picture. It was just that incredible.
People love to ask me where I'm from, not out of some kind of perverse desire to pain me, but because it's a pretty standard question that's supposed to have an easy answer. I don't have an easy answer. And with people from my state of birth hanging car bodies from tree branches, I can't say that they're getting any kind of advantage over my other answer options. I would be a very, very different person today, I imagine, if we hadn't left Arkansas when I was thirteen and barely been back since.
I'd still like to think that I would have never gone near a car winched into a tree, though.
I neglected to post a note about this prior to leaving, but I'll be in Arkansas until the 27th, celebrating Christmas with my extended family. I'm currently writing from Little Rock, where the joys of DSL (and Tivo!) still exist, but we'll be driving to The Middle Of Nowhere, Twenty Miles From Any Form Of Civilization™ shortly. Dial-up does exist there, but I don't know if I'll have the permission or the patience for it, so... just expect not to hear anything for awhile.
In the meantime, I will continue enjoying Pride and Prejudice.
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