The Hitchhiker's Guide to Hoosierdom

Tapping into the family tree that never forks

Hoosier… It’s a word we often use around the huvels, ‘hoods, and hamlets we grew up in. It’s a rather vague phrase that you don’t understand unless you are from St. Louis. It’s universal and can apply to so many people, places, and events that it’s become a birthright, a badge of honor, and somewhat of a curse in all of us.

For most people, the word ‘Hoosiers’ refers to the state of Indiana, or a really good basketball movie starring Gene Hackman. But in the ‘Lou? That colloquialism has an entirely different narrative. In the STL, it signifies every bowling alley boozer and barroom brawler you’ve ever met. It’s a term that is part rags, part riches, and all the way redneck.

It’s not terrible. It’s just who we are.

It’s not a neighborhood or a block, and it’s not about how much money you got. It’s an attitude of apathy. The kind that makes you think you don’t need to pull your pants up, because the whole world deserves to see the crack of your ass.

That goes for Hoosier women, as well. That 2002 tramp stamp isn’t nearly as cute it was back when you were shaking it at the club. Even if you think you’re bringing sexy back? Trust me, you’re not.

And to be honest? The only reason I know all this stuff is because I come from Hoosier roots. I’m the kind of guy who wears my best bowling shoes to a wedding and eats dry cereal out of the box because I’m too lazy to pour milk.

I’m so much of a Hoosier that I can’t stand work and love sleep. Once? I dreamt that I mowed the lawn. Then, I woke up and paid myself 10 bucks

It’s not really my fault, either. I was raised by a proud group of East Side Hoosiers. My grandmother was an educated woman, but she had a funny way of saying things. Like the place we used to get gas? She called it the ‘fillin’ station’

And my Dad? He called the thing we put our laundry in the ‘warshing machine’. I never knew where the letter ‘r’ suddenly made its way into the pronunciation of that word. But I was pretty sure that we didn’t come from the highest stock in terms of the evolutionary scale.

But it could be worse.

Just last week, KLIS’ own Jen Austin read an update in her news report about a guy being charged with assaulting his neighbor by “hitting him in the chest with a piece of wood”. If that’s not the definition of a Hoosier? Then I don’t know what the heck is.

I guess we should all just embrace our own obstcale course of absurdity, balancing our backwoods behavior with trying to function in an urban environment.

For every guy who illegally parks in a handucapped zone, and every preganant woman who goes to the grocery store in her pajamas. For every drunk Hillbilly who goes out looking for a fight on a Friday night? Stand up for your values… no matter how damaged and bass ackwards they may be.

It’s your right as an American, a St. Louisan, a card-carrying member of the AARP, and (probably) someone a lot of bill collectors are looking for.

Ryan K Boman is a freelance writer and the author of the 2023 book, Pop Music & Peanut Butter: A Collection of Essays Looking at Like with Love & Laughter. His previous work has appeared at, MSN, Heavy, the Miami Herald, Screen Rant, FanSided, and Yardbarker. Follow him on X @RyanKBoman