How to Talk Minnesotan

by Howard Mohr

  In the 2010 ROAD REPAIRS season, Gort’s team tried to improve its ratings with the public by outdoing themselves on the outstandingly exciting WALLEYE WHIRLWIND DETOUR, in which three detours were intertwined so that vacationers from several states ended up in the parking lot of the Mall of America on the hottest day of the year. Minneapolis Star Tribune: WALLEYES NOT BITING AT MOA.

  Gort was dismissed from MnDOT and was immediately hired to handle the interactive website for a well-known cell-phone provider whose name cannot be mentioned because it has a lot of lawyers on the payroll. Gort had much better luck there with his gaming expertise and penchant for hidden surprises, puzzling instructions, odd charges, satirical jabs at customers, and best of all, wild animations. It has been rumored that the next generation smartphone will be the GORT.

  But it was back to the twentieth century for MnDOT in 2012, with long waits in the hot sun, steaming radiators, and fuming tourists. MnDOT did, however, begin handing out bottled water to any tourists who had to wait more than an hour for the traffic to move forward another car length. The bottled water came from China, another cross the Bureau of Tourism had to bear.

  What to Say When

  You’ve Arrived

  Phrases

  Yep

  Well?

  So?

  Greetings

  When you travel to Minnesota, I hope you’re not expecting to be met at the border by a bunch of hyper people in colorful clothing. Our black and white signs at the state line say it all: MINNESOTA. If a smiling group of people with colorful clothing does meet you at the border, lock the doors and don’t get out of the car. They probably escaped from someplace.

  Minnesotans do not favor the big hello. We do it, we just don’t overdo it.

  A few years back two brothers from Minnesota ran into each other at a highway restaurant near Alexandria. The restaurant keeps a picture of the brothers by the cash register. The eastern newspapers carried the story and used it as evidence that Minnesotans’ obsession with winter was reflected in our manners and feelings—what they meant was that we were a cold people.

  The two brothers—Frank and Gary—had not seen each other for sixty-four years, not since they were split up somehow on a Mississippi paddleboat. It involved a young woman from a river town and a girdle—and a catfish. I don’t remember the exact details. They were twenty-two and twenty-three years old when that incident happened, whatever it was.

  And then there they were at the restaurant in adjacent booths sixty-four years later. The waitress took Frank’s order—he wanted a cheeseburger and a dish of chocolate ice cream. When she asked Gary what he wanted, he turned around in the booth, jerked his thumb toward Frank, and said, “I’ll have what he ordered. Sounds good to me.” And that’s when he realized he was looking at his long-lost brother, and his brother realized the same thing at the same time. Gary said to the waitress:

  —“It’s my brother—I haven’t seen him for over sixty years. Can I move my silverware over to his booth?”

  This is how they greeted each other:

  FRANK: “Well.”

  GARY: “Yep.”

  And that’s all they said, according to the waitress, until Gary said:

  —“Why don’t you pass me the ketchup then, Frank?”

  When they had finished their cheeseburgers, Frank said to Gary:

  —“Should we just split the check down the middle then?”

  Gary said:

  —“Fair enough, even though you had iced tea.”

  Until you get used to the way we do things here, let’s leave it that when you greet Minnesotans you don’t jump up and down, you don’t kiss them, you don’t hold them in your arms. And don’t advertise your emotional imbalance by saying:

  —“I’m so happy to see you I can’t stand it. Come here. Give us a big kiss.”

  You rarely see Minnesotans on TV game shows. We want a microwave oven and a new living room suite as much as the next person, maybe, but not if it involves throwing our hands in the air, squealing, and running down the aisle in a humorous costume.

  I’ve never seen a Minnesota couple on The Newlywed Game. What those newlyweds say about each other in front of a few million viewers, a Minnesota man and wife would not say to each other in private, even after their fiftieth wedding anniversary.

  We watch shows like that for the same reason we subscribe to the National Geographic.

  The $64,000 Question was the last popular quiz show here. Minnesotans were drawn to the excitement of a person sitting in an isolation booth and concentrating.

  * * *

  When you visit a Minnesotan you know at home, you will be given the Minnesota greeting upon arrival.

  —“So, then, it’s you…”

  Your reply should be simply:

  —“You bet.”

  At this point, you may be given the Minnesota hug, which is the index finger at arm’s length touching your shoulder briefly. Return it if you want, but nobody will be surprised if you don’t, and won’t care either.

  If you arrive by car, the Minnesotan will likely be watching for you out the window with the curtains pulled to one side and will be out the door and in the driveway before you stop. You should roll down the driver’s window so you can hear the greeting. A woman will say to you:

  —“Want a little lunch?”

  You should reply:

  —“You don’t have to go to all that trouble.”

  A man will greet you with:

  —“How long you had this car?”

  This is your cue to get out and open the hood and look at the engine. There’ll be plenty of time to carry stuff in later.

  * * *

  The secret to the Minnesota greeting is to avoid the issue. When you meet somebody for the first time or for the fortieth time, start right off with:

  —“I see you planted a sunburst locust in your yard.”

  Or:

  —“My butt sweated the whole trip—I gotta get one of those cool-air cushions for the driver’s seat.”

  If you are staying with Minnesotans in their home, don’t be frightened by the mornings. We don’t say “Good morning.” And you should avoid saying it, too. Minnesota couples greet each other by staring. The first one to say “What?” completes the exchange.

  ARRIVING AT A HOTEL IN MINNESOTA

  —“I’d like a room for two.”

  —“Is that your wife there?”

  —“Yes.”

  —“Could we see two forms of ID?”

  WHERE TO GO IN MINNESOTA

  Gambling

  Although not widely advertised or encouraged, several forms of legal gambling do exist in Minnesota. If you know where to look when you visit, you can find some wagering action that might suit your taste. However, you should keep in mind that Minnesotans believe it is better to give than to receive, an attitude that can be counterproductive in gambling.

  According to most theorists, the aim of gambling is to win. But most theorists have not taken into account most Minnesotans. If winning is your main goal in Minnesota games of chance, you may win, but you certainly will not be taken as a Minnesotan if you make too big a deal out of it.

  Here is the classic statement on odds by Minnesota’s most famous professional odds maker. It should give you a feel for Minnesota-style gambling.

  Minnesota Odds

  by Hans the Scandinavian

  I had no idea what the odds were in the Burger Palace Bonanza Sweepstakes, and I didn’t care, but out of seven stops for a root beer and a small fry, I won a fish sandwich one time and a bucket of chicken chunks another. That’s pretty good luck, all right, and that could have worried me, but it didn’t in this case because I don’t like fish sandwiches—so that’s a big zero—and the chicken chunks set off a gastrointestinal red-alert when I ate them, and so that win evened out. There I was back to neutral. It made me feel good.

  The odds of winning the vacation home in the Bonanza Sweepstakes are about five million to one. I
wouldn’t mind having a vacation home, but I don’t especially want to win it in a contest. Six homes will be given away in two styles. That means my chances of being killed in a car crash every year are the same as my chances of being the proud owner of a two-bedroom A-frame on a lake, with one and a half bathrooms. I don’t like those odds, and if I had scratched off that silver stuff from the game card and seen a lake home instead of chicken chunks, I would’ve been depressed. You do what you want to, but if you ever win a lake home, I’d suggest you sit on your new redwood deck and watch people water ski. You could also play cribbage or gin rummy. I wouldn’t drive around a lot. LOCAL MAN WINS LAKE HOME, PLUNGES OFF CLIFF IN STATION WAGON.

  If you got tired of looking at the lake from your deck, you could take a plane someplace, because flying is way safer than driving, most people say, but you can tell that most people don’t believe it.

  What if you order a couple of magazines from Quonset Hut Subscription Service and end up winning a trip to Portugal, plus spending money, on a major airline? No telling what your odds were of winning that trip, but they were ridiculous, believe me, because nobody gives anything away. Your odds were roughly the same as your number coming up on the same flight. But don’t let me discourage you. If you win, you have to go. How could you live with yourself if you didn’t? Good luck. You’ll need it.

  When you flip a coin, the odds of calling the correct face are two to one no matter what system you use. If the odds of falling in the bathroom were two to one, most people would wait longer between showers. Most people will never fall in the bathroom, and those that do will rarely hurt anything but their pride, but I’m saying that without seeing your bathroom. What it boils down to is if you need to get something off your chest, you should consider doing it in the bathroom, even if you slam the door and throw aspirin bottles. The odds are a lot worse if you drive off down the road in a huff, unless your electric shaver has a short in it. But you shouldn’t shave when you’re angry anyway.

  Most car accidents happen within twenty-five miles of home, for reasons that are not clear, but it sure is handier for everybody involved. If you take a long car trip, you can improve your odds by having someone pilot your car to the city limits. You should then take the bus out. Actually you should take the bus whenever you can. Very few people are injured or killed while riding a bus, even a city bus. The odds are someplace in the neighborhood of 500 million to one, but of course there is the chance you could be the one. There’s always the chance. Stranger things happen all the time. But remember, you’re statistically safer on that bus than you are in your living room, even if some loud punks take over the backseats and make threatening gestures. You could bring those punks home and hope they trip on your rug and hit their heads on the coffee table. It’s a fairly good bet, as long as you stay seated on the davenport and the home you bring them to isn’t the one on the lake you won in the Burger Palace contest.

  Most people think that odds build up, that the more times something doesn’t happen, the better chance it will happen the next time, and vice versa. I subscribe to this theory myself. If the favorite at Canterbury Downs comes in first in every race for a week, the bettors who believe in “odds pressure” will at some point the next week bet everything they have on Washday Blues, who placed a couple of years ago on a muddy track. If you haven’t cut your finger lately slicing the roast, or worse yet, if you have never cut your finger slicing the roast, you should stop slicing roasts for a while to relieve the odds pressure. According to mathematicians, every time you carve a roast the odds of cutting your finger are the same, but if that’s true why do mathematicians periodically switch to ham?

  Avoid the long shots is my advice. If you happen to win something in a contest, even if it is only a set of luggage with somebody else’s initials on it, your odds of winning were poor.

  The plain fact is that the universe does not like people throwing things off balance. Somebody has to win, you might say. But it doesn’t have to be you, I say. As everyone knows, if something good happens to you, then something bad has to happen. If apparently out of the blue a bad thing happens, you might wonder what you did to deserve it. Quite simply, something good happened to you that you didn’t notice, and the universe was settling accounts.

  After you open the registered letter from Reader’s Digest that says you have won $50,000 a year for life, avoid running out the front door of the house screaming, “I won!! I won!!” The odds of your making it to the sidewalk before being struck by lightning or blown away by a tornado are not good. But you never know. If you have that feeling in your bones, go with it. But don’t say I didn’t warn you.

  Where to Gamble

  Deep Woods Casino

  [Reprinted with permission from the booklet published by the Gaming Division of the Minnesota Department of Natural Resources.]

  You bet. Casino gambling in Minnesota. We’ve got it if you know where to look. And where to look is in the lake country of northern Minnesota. That’s where the Gaming Division of the Department of Natural Resources has erected the one and only Minnesota casino.

  When the state coffers went empty and began to fill up with IOUs, the governor of Minnesota felt that casino gambling could be the answer, but he felt it should be a beautiful and natural experience and therefore should not take place in an environment of luxury, where you would be surrounded by overdressed people with big rings.

  The governor also felt that if people wanted to do some casino gambling they should have to work for it. Business consultants from out of state recommended that Minnesota’s one and only casino should be located near Minneapolis and St. Paul, the population center of the state. That way more people could gamble and more money would end up in the state treasury, they advised. The governor said that making it easy for a whole bunch of people to gamble was not his intent.

  With the blessing of the legislature and the major Minnesota churches, Deep Woods Casino was built on an island in the middle of Balloon Lake, north of Duluth. It can only be reached by canoe, it takes two days to get there, and you have to portage three times and shoot a rapids. It’s a beautiful trip. Take your time paddling and you’ll have your limit of walleyes before you ever say “Deal ’em.”

  The Deep Woods Casino is the biggest tent casino in the world, with one hundred campsites, modern pit toilets, and plenty of snowmobile parking in the winter. If you have the urge to gamble during your visit to Minnesota, get back to the basics. Ask your travel agent about a Deep Woods gambling canoe trip. It’s gambling the way nature intended it.

  * * *

  [Note: Here are some sample dialogues for those interested in Minnesota-style casino gambling. Don’t ask where I got the dialogues. Let’s just say that it was a fun trip and I recommend it. —H.M.]

  On the Lake

  —“Ah, smell that air, Ralph. We’re miles from nowhere.”

  —“Have you ever seen lake water so clear, Rich? And those loons are music to my ears. Sure beats the deadening throb of the city, huh?”

  —“I hooked another one. If it’s a walleye, Ralph, I’ve got my limit.”

  —“It’s a walleye, all right. Must be four pounds. Bring her in and then we’ll head back to camp and have ourselves a fish dinner.”

  Later, in Camp:

  —“Good meal, good cigar, campfire. What more could a guy want?”

  —“Gambling, Rich. That’s what’s missing. What say we change our flannel shirts and paddle over to the Deep Woods Casino for a little blackjack?”

  —“Great. I could use the exercise. How far is it?”

  —“It’s about two hours if we hustle. We’ve gotta portage twice. Better bring the beef jerky.”

  Inside the Deep Woods Casino:

  —“That polka band’s hot, isn’t it? How’s blackjack goin’, Ralph?”

  —“I’m up a little, no problem. Say, dealer, could you move that lantern closer? I can’t read your cards.”

  —“You bet. Where you boys from?”

>   —“We’re camped on Red Shoe Lake.”

  —“Nice lake. How’re they bitin’?”

  —“Caught a four-pound walleye around noon today.”

  —“Sounds good. Think I’ll canoe on down on my day off.”

  —“How about we take in the casino show before we leave, Rich?”

  —“Is it Sinatra?”

  —“No, it’s what’s-his-name that plays the saw and tells Norwegian jokes. They say he’s pretty good. He’s got a girl in his act that whistles through her nose.”

  —“It’d be a shame to miss that.”

  Talking Cars in Minnesota

  CAR REPAIRS

  No matter how long you plan to hang around Minnesota, you’ll probably be driving a car at some point, because most places in Minnesota can’t be reached by anything else, except a boat. Which means there’s a good chance you’ll have car trouble while you’re here. It’s never been explained to my satisfaction, but most car trouble happens on vacation—serious trouble, I mean. Therefore, you should know the rudiments of dealing with a Minnesota auto mechanic. When I say “auto mechanic,” I use the term loosely. We’re talking potluck here—beggars can’t be choosers. The oil pan isn’t gonna fall off where it’s handy for you, for sure, and if you think you’re lucky because it happens near an oil station—forget it. It’s the worst one in the area. Either that or it happens on the freeway and the tow-truck driver drags you and your car to what he calls the best place in town and when you get there, you notice cobwebs all over the tools and a sign that says: YOU DON’T TAKE NO CAR AWAY FROM HERE UNLESS YOU PAY IN CASH—NO EXCEPTIONS. Minnesota is full of good car mechanics and if you ever break down near my place, just give me a ring and I’ll send you to the best—in fact, one of the best wrote the Foreword to this guide. But the car hardly ever bites the dust near a good one. I’ve been rooky-dooed a couple of times on the road. It can spoil a guy’s vacation.