Cowboy's daughter wrote:
Yes. In Texas, it's always been a Texas accent.
But my Dad pronounced some words such as "paints" for pants, "aig" for egg, and "bum" for bomb, & those pronunciations came out of Southern East coastal area. Virginia area maybe. It has a certain name, but I can't remember it right now. -- pronunciation passed down from generation to generation.
and I knew a woman, about my Dad's age, who said "mawning" for morning, and that came out of Mississippi or Alabama.
Probably not as much as in my Dad's generation.
I picked up a favorite Mexican slang word: "chingaletta", which was slang for whatever you wanted to call something, if you didn't know the name. . "Hand me that chingaletta." & later realized chinga is basically like the word f***.
So I had to drop that one. & I love that word. It just rolls off of the tongue.
Anglos pick up Mexican words, especially if they're friends with, date, or marry a Mexican.
Like one pronounced Ah eey ho, which means something like "Oh shit!" as best as I remember.
& others..
I know I pronounce words like I have a mouth full of molasses. & we drop the last letter on words. goin', leavin', stayin',
When I moved to my current HOR in Florida some 30 years ago I bought a house in the historic district and at that time the district was full of sweet little old Southern Ladies who kept the old ways going within reason. They spoke in a cultured Southern Accent, very soft and gentle but like you say, my Lady, they dropped the last letter of the words in general. For some reason a lot of the old dears liked me and when I was in country I was often dragooned to their dinners. It was like stepping back 100 years, the servants, the old ladies in their finest, a few of the surviving old gentlemen dressed to the 9's and little old me, also cleaned up and walking on my hind legs. I do speak the cultured dialect well when needed, perhaps that is why the old gals liked me so much, that and I used the by modern standards archaic politeness. To this day I would never dream of addressing Mrs. Easterday up the street from my house as anything but Misz' Easterday, it just wasn't done, just as she would never address me in any way other than my rank and last name. Sadly many of them are now gone, the houses often sold after an 'estate sale' where their descendent's sold off all the hundred and more year old furniture and baubles for a pittance and dumped the house at below market. Figures.
I'm heading 'home' next month, got to get a new passport. Since the phat putz up north says we are still in orcland, guess he hasn't seen a pic of the flags flying in this AO, I can't get the passport done there and I can't go to orcland to get it for obvious reasons so I've got to return 'home'. I'll tie up the remaining odds and ends and this pilgrimage will probably be the last time I darken their doors. Misz Easterday is still with us and we have kept in contact the old way, by letter. I am expected to dinner a few days after I arrive. Methinks it will be grand as always.