Adventures in Yooperland

I know that there are people out there who like to think that everyone who belongs to the human race is essentially the same inside.  I don't mean physically, because for sure most of us have like spleens and pancreases and stuff, but they believe that essentially, every human person is THE SAME, regardless of race, creed, sexual or asexual orientation, gender or lack thereof, height, weight, hair color, body modifications, etc, etc, etc. 

But it just ain't true. Yoopers....well....they are unique in all the world.  God loves them, for sure.  But God had a quirky moment as some point....and Yoopers are the result. 

They have a great accent, for one thing. I am working on it, and will let you know when I've got it down.  Correct vowel placement is essential.  I think it came from all the Finlanders who settled around here. I know there are some people who go all googly-eyed when they listen to someone with a Scottish burr, or a refined British accent, but for me, it is Yooper-eze.  It makes me smile whenever I hear it.  In fact, I find myself encouraging it, like when the cable guy came to our house, and I talked to him a lot, because I liked the way he sounded....okay...I know...that's weird, eh?

It takes much more than an accent to be a Yooper, though.  It is an attitude, and a lifestyle. 
It is the woman puts her bird feeders on a pulley system to yank them up if a bear should start eating out of them. It is the man with a four-wheel drive pickup truck, three ATVs (including a side-by-side), four snowmobiles, a road grader, and a great big boat (say "boot") in his yard all at the same time. It is the guy who buys 60 pounds of circus peanuts, not because he likes those fakey orangey candies, but because he knows they are the best bear bait imaginable.  It is the woman who hates the road department (no one knows why) and when she finds a dead raccoon on the road, she imagines it's their fault.  Soooo, she constructs an altar, complete with white tablecloth, in her driveway, with the deceased raccoon proudly displayed in state and the word REDRUM spray painted in red on the front of this striking tableau. (I have pictures, and NO, you don't want to see them.)

It is all the people who take a direct interest in anything or anyone new or different coming in to town.  One is not allowed to have a secret from these people, because they will wheedle it out of you with the most direct of approaches:  "You didn't buy dat dere house next to da dope dealers, did ya?" (We didn't; don't worry.)

But it's also the man who drives 50 miles to help you fix a flat tire at 10:00 PM on a Sunday night.  Or the person who offers you free paint, so you can get your business up and running.  Or one of the many families who befriend you, and give lots of their time and tons of absolutely free advice that can smooth your transition from Iowa to the UP.  It's all the wonderful, welcoming, quirky (in the best possible sense) people we have met so far.

I think being a Yooper might just turn out to be contagious.  Because it's the family who, looking for an inexpensive transitional house, were thrilled to find that it included a hot tub, a garden with a six foot fence (essential), and the best of all, THIS as a bonus room. 


See the sign?  Pretty cool, right...err...eh?



 

Something I hope to learn from my Yooper friends is how to be that combination of fun, quirky and proud of it, unique-without-giving-a-damn-what-other-people-think, strong, and stoic through 150 days of winter (or more).  I look forward to it. 

What "stoic" looks like.  Fifty-five degrees and pouring rain are not a hummingbird's favorites. 

Bonus cute furry chipmunk picture.  Maybe don't notice what he's eating!? !
He's a Yooper and doesn't care what you think about it.