Vince McGowan < XXXX@XXXXX.COM > wrote in message news:<wceyc.4628$ XXXX@XXXXX.COM >...
> Robert Wagner wrote:
>
> > Joe Zitzelberger < XXXX@XXXXX.COM > wrote:
> >
> >>In article < XXXX@XXXXX.COM >,
> >>LX-i < XXXX@XXXXX.COM > wrote:
> >>
> >>>Robert Wagner wrote:
> >>>
> >>>>Of course, if the bad guys nuke the G8 meeting in Atlanta, conditions could
> >>>>rapidly destabilize.
> >>>
> >>>Sea Island isn't in Atlanta - it's way down south, off the coast. :)
> >>
> >>Those yankees just love to lump us all together...
> >
> > Having lived in JAX for a year, I know SE Georgia geography. I thought it was in
> > Atlanta because a news story described State of Emergency there.
> >
> > Talk about lumping us all together, when I was in Lubbock yankees would ask
> > whether I was familiar with so-and-so in Houston, more than 500 miles away. I
> > responded by asking whether they knew Washington DC. After they said no, I'd
> > point out it's half the distance.
>
> Half the distance from ... yankeeland?
>
> People do this all the time, e.g., you're from NYC - do you know my
> cousin Tony? Or, you were in the Army - do you know my cousing Tony?
As a New Zealander (population now just 4,000,000 and 30 years ago,
when I left these shores, around 3,000,000), I have become very used
to people all over the planet saying: "You're a Kiwi...D'you know
(substitute whatever names you like here)?"
Given our small population (we are focused on quality rather than
quantity...<G>) I guess it is a reasonable question. However, our long
skinny islands extend just on 1000 miles, so the chance of actually
living next door to any given person (or even knowing them in the same
community), cannot be expected to be high. Yet, on more than one
occasion, I actually DID know the people designated!
My standard response now is: "Probably. Us Kiwis are a tight knit
community and we believe in marrying our cousins, so I'm probably
related to the people you mentioned." This has the desired effect of
making them move on to the next party-goer, before they can find out
that I'm in the computer industry...(Once that gets out you've had
it...the rest of your evening will be spent listening to horrific
stories of how computers destroyed their lives, and requests for free
advice on how to stop Windows from hanging (as if THAT were possible
<G>)).
These days, if you meet me at a party I'm the Postman (everybody loves
the Postman...right?) from the non-existent country of Blowdonia
(people are reluctant to admit a piece missing in their knowledge of
Geography). During the evening, as I imbibe more alcohol, my
Blowdonian accent will vary from Scottish/Welsh/Irish towards
American/Australian/Kiwi until I finally collapse in the corner as an
incoherent heap (if it is a GOOD party...)
That way I get to end up in the kitchen with the real serious
drinkers...
Pete.