Minnesota nice.
Alright, if you know me you know that Minnesota is my home. I was born and raised here, hopefully I will not die here but if I do, I hope it's warm in Valhalla because it certainly isn't here. I am not going to complain about the weather though and I will spit no venom at the welfare system, not just yet at least, I am saving up. At this time I would like to write about a little phrase that, really has always bugged me but lately it's made my blood boil. That phrase is "Minnesota nice". Why does that phrase fluff my dander? You may wonder. Well, it's because of this. All my life that phrase had one very simple meaning. Being Minnesota nice meant you were nice to a persons face and then, cheerfully talked about them behind their back. As it was and still is, Minnesotans are a passive aggressive sort and rarely just let someone they don't like have it to their face. Minnesota nice was a mainstay of what being a Minnesotan was about and, if you wished to rebel against the status quo, you must begin by not accepting one of it's greatest precepts. This is what my friends and I did. In our high school years, we really started to notice that there was an awful lot of Minnesota niceties flying around. People in a clique would be best friends to one of their own until backs were turned and then, the attack. Friend would skewer friend but never openly and funny as it is, in a repressed system, people would talk behind the backs of people they openly disliked. I will not say that I, nor my friends, were innocent of this sad, stupidity but I can say this. One day we just got tired of being hypocrites and we started to not be Minnesota nice. It was a revolution in thinking, if we had something to say, we would say it and face the music for our actions. Now it is many years later and someone is trying to spin this phrase into something like, "Southern hospitality", which it has nothing in common with. Minnesota isn't the land of,"You can sleep in ma' hay loft but keep yer yankee hands offin' ma' three lonely daughters". Minnesota is the land of," I can't believe I let that low dirty Bill marry my daughter, Oh hi Bill, I was just telling Mary how nice it is to have you in the family". That is the Minnesota nice I know and love because as long as it's around, when I tell a person they can go to Hell or throw their cellphone in a coffee pot because they won't just shut up and order their damned latte, it still has shock value and it wakes people up from the doldrums of their usual, non-thought process. No, Minnesota nice doesn't work as an upbeat phrase. It is a phrase that is used to describe how centuries of Lutheran guilt and Bi-Polar disorders can take it's toll on even the heartiest of psyches. It is a phrase that holds a deep warning about how an ancestry can be broken. Minnesota, being settled, mostly by Scandinavians, sons and daughters of Viking warriors and clansmen, who once would have thought nothing of smashing an enemies face, flaying their skin and, literally, wearing their ass for a hat, are now a people that won't even tell a person off to their face. That is why I want this phrase to be left alone because, as long as it's meaning holds true, hopefully people will continue to fight being Minnesota nice.
2 comments:
Yes, I too have always thought of Minnesota Nice pretty much the way you describe it, except, it is far more complex. And it is often believed that actual, literal, real niceness has just transpired. The MN party believes that holding their tongue and not expressing the anger over the given situation (justified or not) is full payment for the otherwise malicious bitterness they subsequently vent on others.
One important aspect of Minnesota Nice is lying about things that no sane person would lie about. Like if your aunt offers you a slice of pie, you are expected to lie and say, "I hate pie". If further pressed you are expected to deny any knowledge of the English language (which is easy in Minnesota). If still further pressed you are expected to compile a chart documenting pie related tragedies in your family over the past 400 years. If further pressed you are expected to explain how the previous lies were lies merely for the purpose of protecting them from the truth, this terrible truth being that you have a rare form of glaucoma that makes it impossible to digest pie.
If your host really wanted to give you pie they would inquire further as to why an eye disease would behave in such a way, then, following a battery of followup questions you would be allowed to accept the pie. However, if the host did not want to give you any damn pie, you have artfully let them off the hook by allowing them to believe that they are not capable of comprehending the intricacies of that disease they have already forgotten the name of. This is a perfect example of Minnesota Nice being used by two willing parties to come up with no actual result. This is its most harmless form.
Of course, that ideal situation rarely plays out because, let's say for instance that I was the one who was being offered pie by my aunt. I didn't want to say that I didn't want pie, because that would be a lie. But if I said I wanted pie I would be bludgeoned to death with a shovel by my mother.
I often would just remain quiet so that I wouldn't have to lie. Sometimes I would even accept the pie and get ready for the beating later. I never actually lied about the pie, but remaining silent at pivotal moments in any relationship can be tantamount to lying. I'm not talking about my relationship with my aunt, but my relationship with pie.
What is great about the more cutthroat variants of the MN is that its adherents often reach a breaking point and attack the original person they were being MN to.
I believe this is the reason for the shift in the understanding of the term. With so many people who were being Minnesota Niced getting Minnesota Iced (as in dead) there are fewer people left alive to tell the story. But rest assured, these things go in waves, and those stories will be told when the ugly side of nice gets kind enough to shed its mask once more.
God i love pie.
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