Like most people in Raleigh, I trace my beginnings to another state — specifically California, which means I speak with all the cadence of a TV weatherman.
I grew up mostly in Maryland, just outside a flyspeck town called Pomonkey, where sentences came seasoned with y’all and the state’s name got pronounced like a famous wizard: Merlin.
But I moved here 30 years ago and found myself awash in Southern speak: one-syllable words stretched into three, vowel sounds drawn out for five seconds apiece, perfect strangers who struck up friendly conversations in the Walmart parking lot using foreign terms like “sir” and “ma’am.”…