OK, now I’m serious about this one, should it be “pop” or “soda”?
Yes, yes, I know, in Ohio, it’s “pop.” I grew up drinking it and called it that until I was persuaded in late adolescence by my East Coast-hailing cousin that “soda” just sounded so much cooler. It stuck. Now whenever I hear someone utter the word “pop,” it sounds foreign and strange.
In the South, it’s neither–it’s “Coke,” even when it’s Pepsi, Sprite, Mountain Dew, or even Fresca.
So which is it, really? And why, you may ask, is this debate plaguing me this morning?
Today I came across a literacy-related arcticle from the dahlbergcentral hometown rag, “The News Journal.” It’s all about a parent-student day at a local school (Woodland Elementary, if you must know). I read the article–I always love reading stuff from home–and there it was:
“Pizza and pop fueled group conversation in the gym afterward.”
Such a small sentence. And yet so powerful. I had to think hard. When was the last time I had seen someone refer to “pop” in a newspaper article?
A quick consultation to my handy AP stylebook found no helpful guidelines to the correct use of words for fizzy beverages. I hit up Webster himself and found that, yes, one definition for “pop” is indeed a carbonated drink. But why the difference in what we call it depending on where we live in the country? And are there other newspapers that use the word “pop”? Is this a common practice? Where are the cultural pop/soda/coke boundaries?
I’m on a mission. I’m going to uncover as many examples as I can. I’ll give you all a full report on what I find. And in the meantime, I’m going to go drink my morning soda.
UPDATE!!! Quick search has turned up this gem of information!!! It’s a color-coded map of who uses which term in what part of the country.
So I’ve been a little fascinated by 