So, you're from the Big Apple?

I know I can't be alone in fielding this one. It's a query that comes frequently when you share that you hail from New York, that common non-New Yorker habit of forgetting that it's an entire state dropping you suddenly into a geography lesson.

Shuddering, I gently move them up the map a few hours, explaining the concept of upstate, of trees and ponds and an entire population that almost never rides a subway or gets caught in a traffic jam (at least one not caused by a tractor or cow).

And then I throw in another life lesson: Calling it the Big Apple is like hanging an “I'm a tourist” sandwich board around your neck.

You'll stick out like a sore thumb.

Growing up in a tourist town, you become attuned to these types of markers that divide local from “just visiting.” They may dress the part, but as soon as they open their mouths, you can hear the difference.

In most of Sullivan County it comes down to pronunciation. Will they put the emphasis on the “coon” or the “i” in Callicoon? Will they call it Monti-sell-o or Monti-chell-o? Is that the Town of Mah-mah-kating or the Town of Mam-a-kating?

Crossing our borders and heading out of town, I try to pay heed to that which makes me cringe at home, lest I too stick out like the out-of-towner I am.

It's never Nor-foh-lk, I've learned. Pronounce the Virginia city with a certain curse word at the end, and you'll be fine.

It's never Chi-Town or the Windy City. Plain old Chicago will do.

And only Yankees fans would dare call it Beantown, but exchanging a New York “aw” for a Bostonian “ah” will help you fit in.

And no matter where you are, admitting you're not sure but you're willing to learn will go a long, long way.