So like I was saying, I’m not really from around here. That means I’m in a pretty good position to stand back in the corner and point and poke fun at all the silly things that differentiate Indiana residents from Real Indianians.
First of all, you can’t consider yourself a Real Indianian unless you like adore John (Cougar) Mellencamp. Real Indianians will sell their firstborn into sexual slavery in order to attend one of his shows. If you aren’t willing to make this kind of sacrifice, then screw you, hippie. Before moving to Indiana, I mistakenly lumped John (Cougar) Mellencamp into the same category as Bob Seger and Ted Nugent–washed-up classic rock singer/songwriters who may or may not be currently deceased. Now I know better.
If you want to fit in with Real Indianians, one of the best ways (other than growing a mullet) is to say something like, “Don’t get me wrong. I love ‘Jack and Diane’ but the second verse of ‘Pink Houses’ makes me teary-eyed every time.” Trust me, they eat this shit up.
Of course, I must mention the one thing related to John (Cougar) Mellencamp that a Real Indianian is allowed to criticize: his politics. Back in the day, he was the epitome of American goodness and patriotism. But, alas, it seems he has turned into some kind of pinko Hollywood commie fag in the last few years. DAMN YOU, ELAINE IRWIN-MELLENCAMP!!!
