When I heard that the firefly was chosen as the official insect of Indiana I was pretty excited.  For one, it’s awesome to have an official insect.  For another, bugs are pretty cool and these are the best of the best.

But I do have one issue with it—if the people who decided this are from Indiana then shouldn’t they know that in Hoosierspeak it’s actually called a lightning bug?

Sure, that my not be the scientific name (when I typed lightning bug in Wikipedia it redirected to firefly), but believe me when I say that I was probably in college before I ever heard someone refer to the creature as anything but a lightning bug; I probably had to ask what they were talking about.

(It’s also just as likely that I argued over the nomenclature.  In another incident, I remember adamantly insisting that a treat sold at a street fair was called a Lion’s Paw as that is what they were called when sold by the Lion’s Club at the Riley Festival.  I had never before encountered the term elephant ear.)

Here is a joke that only Midwesterners will understand:  A weasel walks into a bar.  “What can I get for you?” asks the bartender.  “Pop,” goes the weasel.

I would never refer to a soft drink as soda; that’s an ice cream dessert (think soda fountains from the 1950s).  I love it when I see a church advertising a rummage sale, and I especially dislike potluck when used to describe a collective meal—pitch in is so much more descriptive of what actually happens.  

Let’s talk about how people outside of Indiana don’t know the joys of sugar cream pie, and many have never learned how to play Euchre.  Also, I’m tired of explaining to anyone not from Greenfield what a wet tenderloin entails.  And who else but Hoosiers knows what a Brown Cow is?

My point is that, sadly, regional colloquial speech patterns are disappearing.  This is significant because I feel it is indicative of the homogenization of our greater American society.

This may make me sound like some kind of isolationist who disapproves of mixing and mingling with other people and cultures.  On the contrary, it is these differences that makes travel worthwhile in the first place.  Why go anywhere if every place is the same barren landscape of big box stores and chain restaurants?

Some may say that since much of Indiana remains predominantly rural, then there isn’t much to see.  Have you not heard the term agritourism?  That’s exactly what we have to offer!  It could be a local winery with corresponding vineyard, or a novelty like a hops farm.  

Or how about places where you can pick your own apples or cut a Christmas tree?  What might be farm work to someone who grew up here could be a fun afternoon outing for an urban family.  It’s a matter of rebranding; think along the lines of Tom Sawyer whitewashing the fence.

Let’s celebrate our local culture, and seek out ways to entice tourists to visit Hancock County.  To do that we must first embrace—and be proud of—what makes us unique.  Then we need to let the rest of the world know what we have to offer, and be prepared to welcome our new friends.