Tonight while visions of sugarplums danced in people’s heads, the sound of a freight train lay next to me in bed. There was no hope of sleep with my husband’s snoring and for some strange reason I started thinking about my Boston accent. Maybe the voices in my head weren’t pronouncing their r’s. What better way to cure insomnia than to get up and write a blog. At least I know it will help cure someone else’s insomnia by reading it.

I am a proud Bostonian, through and through and I have been known to slap people for something as simple as referring to jimmies as chocolate sprinkles. There are so many Boston specific oddities but I think the most popular is how Boston seems to be the place where the letter “r” goes to die. It’s a strange thing actually, it’s almost as if our genetic makeup doesn’t allow for the correct pronunciation of the letter within a word. It’s not as if we can’t pronounce the letter “r”, it’s just that when it comes to putting it into a word, we can’t see it, it disappears. Where’d it go, I don’t know, but it’s gone!

I grew up in the town of Arlington which is about seven miles North of Boston, I believe. The sign on the town limits was actually printed as Welcome to Ahlington, even the sign itself couldn’t pronounce the “r”. My accent used to be quite strong as were those around me. Then my husband and I decided to see the world and explore new things. So we moved to the next town over.   Once you crossed the border, sounds more exotic to say it that way, it was almost as if the accent had disappeared. All of a sudden I became very aware of my accent and started to force myself to pronounce the letter “r” inside a word and not just add it to the end of words where it doesn’t belong.

This might sound like an easy task but it really isn’t. They should offer a speech therapy class for those of us struggling to add r’s to words. That would be quite funny actually, it would be a room filled with sounds similar to that of a gender confused tiger’s mating call. Roahrrrrr. My husband’s new accent for some strange reason sounds like a Mid Westerner with a speech impediment. Believe me, our children get hours of enjoyment laughing when we speak. I may not sound as Boston as I used to but I will forever be a proud Bostonian. Boston, you’re my home.