You Know You’re From Massachusetts if:

A two‑panel meme comparing reactions to snow. The top panel shows cars and trucks stuck on a snowy highway near signs for Birmingham and Tuscaloosa, with the caption “The South be like ‘We’re all gonna die!!!’”. The bottom panel shows a person sitting outside in deep snow while grilling food, with the caption “Meanwhile in Massachusetts ‘How do you want your burger?’”.

Ten Quirky Things Massachusetts People Do

Seasons change, and with the change, folks in Massachusetts swap out habits — at least a little. But some things stay the same no matter the weather. Here are a few more quirks that Massachusetts natives do that make outsiders scratch their heads and wonder how we function.

1. We refuse to turn on the heat until Halloween.

It can be 48 degrees in the house, we’re wearing two hoodies and a blanket, and we still say, “It’s not cold yet.” The thermostat doesn’t move until October 31. It’s tradition and stubbornness and  it’s pride.

2. We save winter parking spots with random household objects.

Shovel out a spot after a storm? Congratulations — it’s yours until spring. And to make sure everyone knows it, we’ll guard it with:

  • a kitchen chair
  • a trash barrel
  • a traffic cone
  • a busted fan
  • or something so weird it becomes a neighborhood landmark

Everyone respects the system. It’s unwritten law.

3. We give directions using landmarks that no longer exist — and we always tell you to “bang a Uey.”

Ask a Massachusetts person how to get somewhere and you’ll hear:

  • “Take a right where the old Friendly’s used to be.”
  • “Go past the building that burned down in ’92.”
  • “Turn left after the Dunkin’ — not that Dunkin’, the other Dunkin’.”

And if you miss the turn? No problem. They’ll say, “Just bang a Uey,” like it’s the most normal driving instruction in the world. ( That’s a U-Turn, legal or not)

4. We call highways by names that haven’t been used in decades.

Nobody says I‑95 or I‑93. Nobody says Route 90.

We say:

  • “The Pike”
  • “The Expressway”
  • “128”
  • “The Artery”
  • “The Braintree Split”

Newcomers think we’re speaking in riddles.

5. We will drive 20 minutes out of the way to avoid paying a toll.

Massachusetts people will zigzag through back roads, hit three rotaries, and add fifteen minutes to the trip just to avoid paying $1.25 on the Pike. And we’ll brag about it like we outsmarted the system.

6. We treat Dunkin’ like it’s a public utility.

There are towns with one Dunkin’ on each corner, and somehow they’re all busy. We don’t ask, “Where’s the nearest Dunkin’?” We ask, “Which Dunkin’ are you going to?”

7. We think rotaries are perfectly normal — and we insist they are rotaries, not roundabouts or traffic circles.

Other states panic when they see one. We glide through them like we’re in a NASCAR warm‑up lap.

And if someone from out of state calls it a “roundabout,” we will correct them immediately. It’s a rotary. It has always been a rotary. It will never be anything but a rotary.

If you hesitate, you’ll get honked at by someone who learned to drive on the Bourne Rotary.

8. We pronounce town names in ways that confuse everyone else.

Gloucester?

Worcester?

Leominster?

Peabody?

We say them like we swallowed half the syllables and decided the rest were optional.

9. We have strong opinions about which Market Basket is “the good one.”

Every region has at least one Market Basket that’s:

  • cleaner
  • faster
  • better stocked
  • less chaotic

And we will drive past three other grocery stores to go to that one.

10. We treat weather like a competitive sport.

If someone says, “It’s cold today,” a Massachusetts person will immediately respond with:

  • “You think this is cold?”
  • “You should’ve been here in ’15.”
  • “This is nothing.”
  • The Blizzard of ’78? That’s nothin’

We don’t just endure weather — we brag about surviving it.

If you’re from Massachusetts, you probably nodded at least once. If you’re not… well, now you know why we are the way we are. We got some wicked , quirky habits. Lets bang a Uey and grab a cuppa iced coffee at that Dunkin up ahead. By the way, where are you from and what quirky habits make your state special?

 

New England vs the World- a Linguistic Nightmare

 

New England Just Can’t Get With the Rest of the World

Or: Why Ordering a Simple Drink Can Feel Like a Pop Quiz

The Goulash That Started It All

A few days ago, I mentioned the great Massachusetts goulash mystery — how my simple mix of hamburger, tomatoes, and macaroni somehow shares a name with a paprika-heavy Hungarian stew, a baked casserole, and something called American Chop Suey. After fifty years in New England, you’d think I’d have the naming conventions down.

But no. Because if there’s one thing New England loves, it’s doing things its own way. And that includes what we call everyday foods and drinks.


Tonic, Soda, Pop… and Now “Soft Drink”

Ask for a soda in most of the country and you’ll get a Coke, a Pepsi, or whatever fizzy thing you’re after.

Ask for a tonic in New England and you might get a raised eyebrow — unless you’re talking to someone over 60, in which case they’ll hand you a Pepsi without blinking.

Meanwhile, pop is strictly a Midwest thing. If you say “pop” in Massachusetts, people will assume you’re talking about your father, not your beverage.

And then there’s soft drink, the polite, slightly formal cousin that sounds like it belongs in a 1950s diner or a doctor’s office. Technically it means any non‑alcoholic carbonated drink, but around here it’s more of a background character than a star.

So the full New England beverage glossary now looks like this:

  • Soda — the modern default
  • Tonic — the old-school Massachusetts classic
  • Soft drink — the formal, old-fashioned option
  • Pop — something your father is called, not something you drink

A newcomer doesn’t stand a chance.


The Frappe vs. Milkshake Debate (Now Featuring Smoothies)

This one still gets me.

In most of the country, a milkshake has ice cream. Thick, creamy, slurp-it-through-a-straw-if-you’re-lucky ice cream.

In New England?
Nope.

  • A milkshake is just flavored milk.
  • A frappe (pronounced frap, not frap-pay) is what the rest of the world calls a milkshake — because it actually has ice cream in it.
  • A smoothie is the healthy overachiever of the group — fruit, yogurt, ice, maybe spinach if you’re feeling virtuous. It sounds like it should be in the same category, but it absolutely is not.

So yes, you can order a chocolate milkshake here and get something the consistency of chocolate milk. And yes, it still surprises me.


The Grinder vs. Sub vs. Hoagie Situation

If you’re new to New England and someone offers you a grinder, don’t panic — it’s not a tool, it’s lunch.

  • Grinder — New England
  • Sub — Most of the U.S.
  • Hoagie — Philadelphia
  • Hero — New York

Same sandwich. Four names. Zero agreement.


Sneakers? Nope. We Wear “Tennis Shoes.”

Even if we haven’t touched a tennis court since the Nixon administration, New Englanders will still call all athletic shoes tennis shoes.

Running shoes, walking shoes, cross-trainers — doesn’t matter. They’re tennis shoes.


Rotaries, Not Roundabouts

Everywhere else: roundabout.
New England: rotary, and we drive through them like we’re trying to qualify for the Indy 500.

Tourists approach them with fear. Locals approach them with misplaced confidence. No one uses a blinker.


Wicked Good, Wicked Cold, Wicked Everything

“Wicked” is our universal intensifier.

  • Wicked cold
  • Wicked good
  • Wicked fast
  • Wicked expensive

It works for everything except actual wickedness.


Bubbler vs. Water Fountain

This one’s more Rhode Island and parts of Massachusetts, but it still counts.

A bubbler is a drinking fountain.
If you ask where the water fountain is, you’ll get directions.
If you ask where the bubbler is, you’ll get respect.


Jimmies vs. Sprinkles

Chocolate sprinkles?
In New England, they’re jimmies.

Rainbow sprinkles are still sprinkles, but chocolate ones get their own name. Why? No one knows. It just is.


Package Store vs. Liquor Store

If someone tells you they’re “running to the packie,” they’re not mailing a package — they’re buying wine.

A package store is a liquor store.
A packie run is a perfectly respectable Saturday errand.


Final Thoughts

New England is full of charm, contradictions, and linguistic curveballs. Whether it’s goulash that isn’t goulash, milkshakes that aren’t milkshakes, or rotaries that strike fear into the hearts of tourists, we like things the way we like them — even if the rest of the world disagrees.