Hoosieritis

However, none of these people surpasses the notoriety and stature of the patron saint of Indiana, James Byron Dean. Whatever isn’t cool, hot, or hip about Indiana is completely obliterated by the ultimate Hoosier, James Dean. No other state has James Dean. Indiana claims James Dean. What state wouldn’t? James Dean exuded cool, and his birth on February 8, 1931 in Marion, Indiana began the process that makes having Hoosieritis totally cool. Michiganders, Buckeyes, and Chicagoans can say all they want about Indiana being that backward, redneck, hillbilly state next door (I can’t imagine people in Kentucky saying this), but they don’t have James Dean. I rest my case. Driving along I-69 you can’t miss the signs for the James Dean museum in Fairmount where he spent his formative years. You’ll see the blue attraction signs along with an invitation to visit the Garfield museum. Somehow I don’t think a cartoon cat has enough cool to be on the same sign with James Dean, but Fairmount native, Jim Davis, would probably disagree. If you’re a Hoosier accept the fact that you are automatically cool. Pride yourself in it. Bask in your coolness. Let your Hoosierness shine. Don’t be afraid to claim your Hoosier heritage. Say out loud, “I am a Hoosier, and damn proud of it!” Accept the fact that you are riddled with the incurable disease of Hoosieritis. James Dean had it, and he blazed the trail for us so that we Hoosiers could all be cool in spite of our being a rather weird, kooky, and strange bunch. He cinched the deal. We’re Hoosiers. And, if you’re not a Hoosier, you are welcome to move to Indiana and become an honorary Hoosier, just like Abe Lincoln. Talk to my wife, the Michigan native, who made the conversion. You too may catch the contagious condition that is Indiana!