Lileks: Geez, how'd we lose that accent contest so quickly, there?

I grew up saying "Uff da," and did so without irony or shame. We ate Swedish meatballs and said, "Uff da, these are good, Mom, but what makes these Swedish, as opposed to Italian?"

"Well, for one thing, child, there's no Papist spices. In fact the spices have been replaced with thick sauces whose primary spice is the Color Brown. Some recipes call for two or three grains of pepper, which you place in the fridge next to the meat for an hour, but that gives Grandpa the 'supper sweats,' and then he has to loosen his tie."

It's been a while since I heard anyone say uff da who wasn't A) joking or B) Me. But to the rest of the world we utter uff da and oh jeez and other clichés of Lutheran Lingo, and to the rest of the world it sounds worse than dumb. It's ugly.

Proof: Gawker, the website for people who hate everything else almost as much as they secretly hate themselves (partly for not being the sort of person Gawker would ever notice), is holding an Ugly Accent contest. Minneapolis was seeded seventh.

We went up against Tallahassee, which apparently has the stereotypical Suth'n accent New Yorkers associate with bare-chested mullet-wearers who amuse themselves by shooting the beer can off a friend's head. With a shotgun. They won the bracket, and our "ugly" accent is out of the running.

When some people use the accent, it's to indicate the slow thoughts of a rustic dullard, an Ole in overalls slopping the pigs while Lena rolls out the lefse. A farmer. Someone who plants the crops, runs the machinery, cares for the livestock, gets everything to the market, balances the books, hires workers, digs wells, rips up a feed bag to make a tourniquet when the hired man gets his sleeve caught in the auger, and so on.

You know, a simpleton.

This is a pity. This should change. We should all speak as Minnesotan as possible. Here are the reasons.

1. Accents set a place apart, give the streets a distinctive sound that tells you you're not in Kansas anymore. (Unless you are, of course, but you can tell because for a local, the "K" is silent. Didn't know that? Well, next time you're there, it's "Ansas.") No one wants to live in a country sheared of all regional differences, where everyone talks like a network news anchor.

You want the honeyed balm of a Southern accent with its intimations of courtesy and slow-paced pleasures, the Boston bray that reminds you of a goose trying to play a bassoon, the swagger of dem Joisey woids, the flat laconic tone of a Plainsman, the crazy-eyed yee-haw of a Texas twang, the whatever-it-is-they-sound-like of the Pacific Northwest. Seriously, I've no idea.

If we lose this, we lose something special, namely: A quick and easy way to judge someone and make fun of them behind their backs. Also:

2. The way things are going, TV shows will reduce us to three accents. Southern, for middle-aged racist politicians; New Yawk, for hard-charging guys who might be corrupt, OK, probably; the Minnesota accent, which is used for decent folk who might seem a bit dim but actually got a lot on the ball there, y'know. We need to associate it with something else.

"OK, well, thanks for coming, I know it's a bear out there with the snow and all, but we got this germ situation going on now and jeez, it's a tough one. You betcha we're concerned. First thing to know is no matter how much some of you are still a bit ticked you got to turn around in church and shake hands now, you can't get the stuff that way. It's a fluid-type thing there.

"Second, I don't care if Grandpa Sven used to blow his nose by holding one nostril and shooting the juice out the other side there, it's not something we're gonna do, for the health reasons. And that goes for your shirt sleeve, the ol' Swedish handkerchief. As far as we know this bug grows pretty good in a petri dish, but can't last a minute in a hot dish, so that's some good news. OK, buns and coffee downstairs in the basement if you want."

It may grate on some people, sure. On Gawker, 6,000 voters deplored our accent. But in our defense: It's the sound of someone who generally means well. Someone who's practical. Someone who's not very good at trying to lie to you. We should all try to talk like this as much as possible. Instead of a national "Talk Like a Pirate Day," there should be an effort for everyone to talk like a Minnesotan, just to give us a rep for cheerful decency.

Of course, when people say "How do I sound like a Minnesotan," you know what you'd have to say.

"Just talk like the movie. You know. 'Fargo.' "