Everybody Calls Me Jana Banana: A look at difference between Yankee, Southern accents

I have a dear friend that told me that I could write a book about how living in South Carolina changed me from a Yankee to a Southern Belle. I laughed, and then thought, “Well, did it?”

Let’s see, I do say “y’all” and “bless your heart!” now, and I certainly do have a twang to my voice. When my friends and I just performed “Dixie Swim Club” a few weeks ago, I must admit that I didn’t have to work that hard to get the Dinah accent Southern enough. It seems to be all too easy to blend in with this wonderful South Carolina accent.

But just in case my accent gets too different that my family won’t recognize me on the phone, I’ve been brushing up on my “Maine-Speak,” and I thought you may want to learn a bit too. You never know when you may go Down East to see the fall leaves. Being a leaf peeper is great, but you may get a better price on antiques if you sound like a native.

First, all words that end with the sound “er” should be replaced with “ah.” Therefore, I am not a Mainer but a “Mainah.” A car is a “cah,” and it’s not far, it’s “fah.” Of course, your front yard is a “yahd.” “Pahk the cah in the yahd, Deah,” translates to “Hey, Shug! That’ll be just fine, just go ahead and drive your car right up on the grass in front of the house.”

Okay, that one was fairly easy. The next one is a little confusing.  Words that end with “a” are replaced by the sound “er.” My nickname Jana Banana becomes “Jan-ner Bananer.” An idea is an “ide-ah,” and “Moth-ah and Fath-ah” are your dear parents.

There is one thing that South Carolina and Maine do the same. We see no need to have the “g” at the end of anything! You can talk about runnin’, joggin’ and bikin’ the whole 1,000 miles between the two states, and you’ll fit in just fine.

Lots of folks think that Yankees talk fast, and that is not true in my home state. My great uncles talked so slow you could let a pot of tea boil while they told you what kind of tea they wanted. One syllable words become two. There becomes “they-uh,” here becomes “hee-uh,” and deer is “dee-ah,” which, of course, is what you call everyone that you love. They also call you “Dah-lin,” and other terms of endearment that are not as sweet as Southern but just as endearing.

When a waitress arrives at your table in Maine to refill your glass and you don’t care for any more, you tell her, “I’m all set.” I’ve said that to waiters and waitresses in South Carolina and gotten very puzzled looks and often a “Do what?”

One saying that I have not used here in the South that is a daily phrase in Maine just popped out of my mouth the other day when someone asked me how I was enjoying the cooler temperatures. I answered, “What a wicked nice day!”

Yes, in Maine, “wicked good” is right up there with “Give me sugar!”

I think that my new dialect of Southern-Yankee may be the most memorable, and confusing, accent of all time!