What Gives, Jersey?

New Jersey gets picked on.  The bad guy in movies is from New Jersey.  He has no neck, wears black, works for the mob, hasn’t mastered subject verb agreement and is named Vinny*.

After being there this past weekend I can honestly say Jersey isn’t half bad.  Parts of it are actually beautiful…I’ve ben told. It’s called the “Garden State,” after all.  There’s got to be some actual life and vegetation somewhere.

imageBut, yea, they do talk funny.  Not hilariously funny.  Just pushy funny.  And loud.  New Jerseyites have a way of making directions to the hotel sound like a list of everything that’s wrong with the world – at twice the decibel level of say Tennesseans.  Suggestions, encouragements and compliments even come out scaldingly scolding, bossy and angry.  The nicest words come out coated in What The #$@& Do You Want????

I felt like crying several times.  I peed myself twice.  And finally just called my mommy.

Meanies.  Bunch of mean meanies.

Then there’s the New Jersey expression.  No matter what is being said, or sung, the face droops like a sack of face parts just hanging on the front side of a head.  Nothing moves.  It all just hangs.  I’ve got the joy joy joy joy down in my heart?  Sag.  If you’re happy and you know it?  Nothing.  Thank you so much for having us, it’s been great, really?  Nada. 

Droop.  Droop.  And more droop.

What gives, Jersey?  You seem aware – nay, even proud – of your unsunny disposition and unfriendly ways.  I and the rest of the citizens of these great states wants to know: Why so glum?  You’ve got stuff to be happy about…I think…somewhere…surely.  Cheer up.

And use your inside voice.

*I actually met a very kind low-talking smiley man named Rocco with impeccable grammatical skills and a good sense of humor.