But with Pistons leading, do we hate -- or pity -- our bland Midwest neighbor?
People in Indiana eat breaded pork tenderloins. The tenderloins are fried and flat and about the size of a flying saucer and the flatter and drier they are, the better the people like them.
In the southern part of the state, still largely unexplored, “Coke” is the generic term for pop. A thirsty Indiana person at a restaurant will ask the waitress, who by law is named Edna, to fetch a “Pepsi Coke” or a “Sprite Coke.”
But is that reason enough to hate the entire state?
People in Indiana talk funny. They say “warsh,” as in, “Edna! Warsh the Squirt Coke off the table!” I have personally been to a town called Peru (pronounced “Pee-roo”) and another called Russiaville (pronounced “Rooshaville”). They can be found near Kokomo (pronounced “Terre Haute”) and are full of Indianaganders (pronounced “Hoosiers.”)
But again: Is this just cause for loathing?
I am trying to muster venom and hostility toward our neighbor to the southwest. “The Crossroads of America,” its motto insists. The Hoosier state. Baja Sturgis.
This is my calling, because the Indiana Pacers are trying to deny our Pistons their rightful place in the NBA finals. Also, my editor asked me to, and I do not want to be traded to the Richmond, Ind., Palladium-Item or the Logansport Pharos-Tribune.
Still, I can’t quite whip myself into a frenzy. Hating Indiana is like hating oatmeal. Or beige. Also, the Pistons lead the series 2-1, and they’re playing at home tonight, and isn’t that a situation that calls for compassion instead of scorn?
If the Pacers were from Ohio, things would be different. Michiganians hate Ohio as a way to pass the time, sort of like fly fishing. Back in 1835, we even fought a war with Ohio, though it wasn’t all that noteworthy since the armies got lost in some swamps and never quite found each other.
The only casualty was a Michigan sheriff named Joseph Wood, who was stabbed in the thigh by an Ohioan named Two Stickney. Two and his brother, One, were the sons of Maj. Benjamin Stickney, who later left the militia to teach advanced math at Ohio State.
But I digress.
The capital and major population center of Indiana is Indianapolis, whose residents call it “the ‘Nap” or “Indianoplace.” For excitement, Indianapolisganders string lights on the Soldiers’ and Sailors’ Monument every year and call it the World’s Largest Christmas Tree.
That’s probable cause to resent Indiana if you live there, but I don’t, so now we’re back to sympathy.
Indiana has lots of corn and lots of Jacksons — almost all the ones you’ve heard of except Jesse, Reggie and Andrew. Like many things about Indiana, that’s neither good nor bad. It just is.
James Dean and David Letterman are from Indiana. Letterman likes to drive fast. Dean did for awhile.
The Pacers fired coach Isiah Thomas, the former Detroit basketball star from Indiana University. Maybe we could get worked up about that, except the Pistons wouldn’t hire him in the first place when he wanted to be an executive.
This is not the only thing Michigan and Indiana have in common. They elected Dan Quayle senator, and we helped elect him vice-president. They have some big auto races in Indianapolis, and we have some sort-of-big ones in Brooklyn. They gave Don Barden a casino license and we let him run a cable TV system. They still revere Bobby Knight, who most reasonable people consider a thug, and we still cheer Bill Laimbeer.
They have Larry Bird, the Pacers president from French Lick who used to torment the Pistons as a Boston Celtic. They also have Ron Artest, who distinguished himself the other night by flipping the fans the Larry.
Maybe that’s a starting point for my grudge. Artest is an overmuscled menace — unlike Rasheed Wallace, our angry guy, who is simply misunderstood.
Indiana’s lesser version of Wayne State is Indiana University-Purdue University Indianapolis, or IUPUI. Students call it “ooey pooey,” and by thunder, that’s an affront to higher education.
Worse yet, Indiana can’t figure out what time it is.
While 47 other states adopted daylight-saving time in 1966, Indiana farmers were afraid it would confuse their cows. So the 10 counties in the Central Time Zone switch their clocks, and five counties that happen to be near big cities in other states switch their clocks, but 77 counties keep Eastern Standard Time year-round.
It’s ridiculous. And consider this: Indiana has shared a border with Ohio since 1803 without once mounting an invasion.
OK, now I’m steamed.
http://www.detnews.com/2004/lifestyle/0405/28/c01-166365.htm
People in Indiana eat breaded pork tenderloins. The tenderloins are fried and flat and about the size of a flying saucer and the flatter and drier they are, the better the people like them.
In the southern part of the state, still largely unexplored, “Coke” is the generic term for pop. A thirsty Indiana person at a restaurant will ask the waitress, who by law is named Edna, to fetch a “Pepsi Coke” or a “Sprite Coke.”
But is that reason enough to hate the entire state?
People in Indiana talk funny. They say “warsh,” as in, “Edna! Warsh the Squirt Coke off the table!” I have personally been to a town called Peru (pronounced “Pee-roo”) and another called Russiaville (pronounced “Rooshaville”). They can be found near Kokomo (pronounced “Terre Haute”) and are full of Indianaganders (pronounced “Hoosiers.”)
But again: Is this just cause for loathing?
I am trying to muster venom and hostility toward our neighbor to the southwest. “The Crossroads of America,” its motto insists. The Hoosier state. Baja Sturgis.
This is my calling, because the Indiana Pacers are trying to deny our Pistons their rightful place in the NBA finals. Also, my editor asked me to, and I do not want to be traded to the Richmond, Ind., Palladium-Item or the Logansport Pharos-Tribune.
Still, I can’t quite whip myself into a frenzy. Hating Indiana is like hating oatmeal. Or beige. Also, the Pistons lead the series 2-1, and they’re playing at home tonight, and isn’t that a situation that calls for compassion instead of scorn?
If the Pacers were from Ohio, things would be different. Michiganians hate Ohio as a way to pass the time, sort of like fly fishing. Back in 1835, we even fought a war with Ohio, though it wasn’t all that noteworthy since the armies got lost in some swamps and never quite found each other.
The only casualty was a Michigan sheriff named Joseph Wood, who was stabbed in the thigh by an Ohioan named Two Stickney. Two and his brother, One, were the sons of Maj. Benjamin Stickney, who later left the militia to teach advanced math at Ohio State.
But I digress.
The capital and major population center of Indiana is Indianapolis, whose residents call it “the ‘Nap” or “Indianoplace.” For excitement, Indianapolisganders string lights on the Soldiers’ and Sailors’ Monument every year and call it the World’s Largest Christmas Tree.
That’s probable cause to resent Indiana if you live there, but I don’t, so now we’re back to sympathy.
Indiana has lots of corn and lots of Jacksons — almost all the ones you’ve heard of except Jesse, Reggie and Andrew. Like many things about Indiana, that’s neither good nor bad. It just is.
James Dean and David Letterman are from Indiana. Letterman likes to drive fast. Dean did for awhile.
The Pacers fired coach Isiah Thomas, the former Detroit basketball star from Indiana University. Maybe we could get worked up about that, except the Pistons wouldn’t hire him in the first place when he wanted to be an executive.
This is not the only thing Michigan and Indiana have in common. They elected Dan Quayle senator, and we helped elect him vice-president. They have some big auto races in Indianapolis, and we have some sort-of-big ones in Brooklyn. They gave Don Barden a casino license and we let him run a cable TV system. They still revere Bobby Knight, who most reasonable people consider a thug, and we still cheer Bill Laimbeer.
They have Larry Bird, the Pacers president from French Lick who used to torment the Pistons as a Boston Celtic. They also have Ron Artest, who distinguished himself the other night by flipping the fans the Larry.
Maybe that’s a starting point for my grudge. Artest is an overmuscled menace — unlike Rasheed Wallace, our angry guy, who is simply misunderstood.
Indiana’s lesser version of Wayne State is Indiana University-Purdue University Indianapolis, or IUPUI. Students call it “ooey pooey,” and by thunder, that’s an affront to higher education.
Worse yet, Indiana can’t figure out what time it is.
While 47 other states adopted daylight-saving time in 1966, Indiana farmers were afraid it would confuse their cows. So the 10 counties in the Central Time Zone switch their clocks, and five counties that happen to be near big cities in other states switch their clocks, but 77 counties keep Eastern Standard Time year-round.
It’s ridiculous. And consider this: Indiana has shared a border with Ohio since 1803 without once mounting an invasion.
OK, now I’m steamed.
http://www.detnews.com/2004/lifestyle/0405/28/c01-166365.htm
