Do I Detect An Accent?

"You sound like an alien."

Soon, soon, the lucky SJG will travel to New York, a place everyone thinks I'm from, and who am I to argue? My whole life, people make assumptions about my birthplace. Why do people do that? Is it the Jewish demeanor that comes along with the package? It can't be the accent. I don't have an accent, New York or otherwise. My NY-born dad didn't have an NY accent. However, when called upon, he could do a pretty good NY accent. I, on the other hand, can only do a God-awful NY accent. Come to think of it, I can do many God-awful accents upon request.

You want my Eliza Dolittle? My French Maid? My Spanish Senorita? My OMG Valley Girl? My Hey Y'all Southern Belle? My Fargo-Inspired Minnesotan? Let me entertain you. Oh. You're more of a musical admirer? For you, I present my Ethel Merman rendition of "There's No Business Like Show Business." Not your cuppa tea? Fine. How about my Babs "Don't Rain On My Parade" anthem? No? What's wrong with you? Oh, I get it. You'd rather be regaled with my Cowardly Lion "Who Put The Ape In Apricot"? That, I can do. Or maybe you'd like a non-speaking, non-singing performance? I'm always ready with my Little Tramp Charlie Chaplin Strut. I know, I know, it's a miracle I didn't make it to Broadway. But soon, soon, I'll be Broadway-adjacent as an audience member, and at this stage, that's close enough.