The obvious rejoinder to Christie Vilsack’s problem with Southern accents is to remind her of the movie Fargo, ya-know? As if Midwesterners don’t have accents, ya-know? Fer Pete’s sake.
Then there is the little issue of all this regional culture surviving in the midst of the universal, homogenizing sprawl the smart growthers wail about. They must not be able to tell the difference between a Southern Starbucks and a Yankee one. (Hint: One has 20-oz. Pepsis next to the pastry, the other doesn’t.)
Unlike Mrs. Vilsack, I like living in a country that looks, sounds, and smells different every few miles down the road.
