just remembered a true story my father told...

He was a Western Union lineman (dug the hole, put up the poles, strung the wire)from about 1927 to about 1947. This often entailed living for days or weeks in 'outfit' cars on the railroad..(you may have seen some..grey cars with windows and stairs at each end..kind of a cheap, wooden bunkhouse on tracks)...anyway, they had to cook for themselves, just like in Bruce Phillips story.

So, one night, they were sitting down to dinner for the usual plain fare...some sort of fried meat, boiled potatoes...etc...when a guy from Texas called to a guy from Arkansas at the other end of the table..."hey, Shorty, pass the spuds.."....well, Shorty got this look on his face and glared at 'Tex'...and admonished him, "Tex, dammit..don't call 'em 'spuds'...call 'em 'taters, whut they aire."