Letter From thenSouthwestnby Odie FaulknFast-Food RegionalismnEvery day we hear references tonNorth, South, East, and West, tonMidwest and Southwest, to PacificnNorthwest and, lo, even to Ozarkia,nCascadia, and Siskiyou. All of us speaknor write of these geographical areas asnif they had narrowly prescribed boundariesnreadily meaningful to everyone.nYet in reality these designations, asnHumpty Dumpty would say, meannonly what we want them to mean, “nonmore and no less.” No geographernwishing to retain his reputation wouldndare print a map of the United Statesnwith the various regions given exactnboundaries.nI recall from years ago an acquaintancenwho had grown up in Brownsville,nTexas. He had the narrowestndefinition of what constituted thenSouth that I have ever encountered.nHe would drawl, “Why, the way Inhave it figured, anyone from north ofnthe Nueces River is nothin’ but anDamnyankee” (the Nueces emptiesninto the Gulf of Mexico at CorpusnChristi).nHowever we define a region, mostnof us would agree that regionalism hasnplayed a major role in American history.nIn fact, Frederick Jackson Turner, anhistorian better known for his “fronfiernthesis,” gave a series of lectures inn1918 in which he argued, “It was innthe conflict and compromise betweennthe sections that Americanism wasnformed.” Still later he would write,n”We in America are in reality a federationnof sections rather than of states.nState sovereignty was never influentialnexcept as a constitutional shield for thensection.”nArguments about “constitutionalnshields” are meaningless to averagenAmericans, but most would agree withnTurner that the sections of the UnitednStates have contributed much tonAmerican culture. The Southwest isnthe strum of a guitar, a bowl of chilincon carne, place names breathing withnthe romance of Andalusia, Castille,nand Leon. The Old South is a fiddlednhoedown, fried chicken or a bowl ofngrits, and an accent as soft as magno­nlias. New England is clam chowder,nlaconic suspiciousness of outsiders,nmaple syrup, and hardy independence.nAnd the Midwest, the Northwest,nand California have their foods,ntheir attitudes, and their culture.nOur recognition of regionalism isntacitly expressed in the stock charactersnof television commercials: the Texasnsheriff, the New England fisherman,nthe Southern hillbilly, the Westernncowboy, the Californian laid back innhis hot tub. Fads in regionalism ebbnand flow thanks to these commercialsnand to other conduits of popular culture.nSuddenly everyone has to wearnturquoise jewelry, which all too soonnis replaced by Stetson hat and cowboynboots. During the era of the UrbannCowboy, the biggest lie in New YorknCity was, “Why, I’ve worn cowboynboots all my life.”nYet hearing a true New England ornSouthern accent can be pure pleasurento someone in the Midwest, and anyonenwho turns up his nose at chickennfried steak, cream gravy, and friednpotatoes while in Texas is fit only forntreasons and stratagems.nRegionalism indeed has contributednmuch to the richness and diversity ofnAmerica, to say nothing of its contributionnto our bill of fare in restaurants.nBut regionalism is, sad to say, on thenwane.nFirst, regionalism is threatened bynbeing trivialized to death. Fast-foodnplaces claiming to serve Mexican dishesnbear little relationship to what actuallynis cooked in the Southwest, just asnthe Colonel does a great disservice tonthat Southern tradition of fried chicken,nmashed potatoes, biscuits, andngravy. Nor do waitresses dressed innpirate garb inside a restaurant built tonresemble a ship serve real New Englandnclam chowder. Much of thisnfood is not regional but rather a plasticnreplica intended to turn a high profit.nSecond, regionalism is being diminishednby the architecture of our greatnchain motels, service stations, and restaurants.nA McDonald’s in Bangor,nMaine, looks the same as one in Capistrano,nCalifornia, just as a weary travelerngets the same plastic cubicle in anHoliday Inn in Del Rio, Texas, as innJuneau, Alaska. No doubt, there arengreat savings to be had from building anthousand Texaco service stations fromnthe same set of architectural drawings.nnnbut this does litfle to distinguish Virginianfrom Oregon or to enhance ournappreciation of either.nAnother perpetrator of the slownmurder of regionalism is the shoppingnmall. Downtown merchants find itnimpossible to stay healthy when thesenleviathans sprout up out of the ground.nThe growth of a shopping mall generallynsignals death for businesses in thenold central core of most cities. MostnAmericans, if blindfolded and transportednto the middle of almost anyngiant mall, would be unable on beingnreleased to say with certainty if theynwere in Houston or St. Louis or Seattienor even Toronto. Even to see anname like Macy’s or Bloomingdale’s ornMarshall Field’s is not to guaranteenwhere one is, for these stores oncenassociated only with New York or Chicagonnow anchor malls in Dallas andnHouston, Atianta and Denver. Everynmall, no matter where located, has itsnthree or four anchor departmentnstores, its boutiques selling clothes, itsnrecord stores with ear-blasting music,nits toy emporiums and food kiosks.nThere is nothing to distinguish onenfrom another to any noticeable degree.nEven the seasonal Christmas decorationsnseem to move from one smallnmall to the next.nAnd finally, radio and televisionninexorably are killing regionalism.nOur local announcers, newscasters,nand weathermen—“talking hairdos”nwho are just smart enough to readnfrom a teleprompter—move aboutnfrom city to city. Cradually they losenthe regional accent with which theynstarted their careers. A red-neckednTexan like Dan Rather, by the time henbecomes anchorman for the CBS eveningnnews, must speak with a broadnnational accent, just as that radionnewsman who spoke with an Oklahomanaccent changed his accent at thensame time he was changing his namento Paul Harvey and moving to Chicago.nThe pervasive influence of nationalnradio and television personalitiesnwill eventually have us all talking likenTom Brokaw, as we order our “cajun”nchicken from the mall restaurant.nOdie Faulk is author of Arizona: AnShort History (University of OklahomanPress) and of other standard volumesnof Southwestern history.nDECEMBER 19871 55n