TYME machine, ope, hotdish, melk and other Wisconsin words explained

Oh, Wisconsin-isms. There are many.

We've tackled soda v. pop and bag v. bayyyg and where "bubbler" came from.

Now, we're back at it again.

This time, we've looked into stories and explanations behind TYME machine vs. ATM, why milk is sometimes pronounced melk, and the possible origin of "ope!"

It's part of What the Wisconsin? — a feature in which we answer questions from readers about our city and state. Those submissions are frequently about our unique pronunciations and phrases, so look for sloppy joes vs. hot tamales and other conflicts in a future installment. If you have an idea for what we should investigate, visit bit.ly/whatthewisconsin.

MORE:17 words only a true Wisconsinite knows how to pronounce

When someone asks, "Where's the TYME machine?", they're not trying to time travel … probably. Odds are, they're just looking for a place to withdraw cash.

TYME, which stood for "Take Your Money Everywhere," used to be synonymous with the word ATM in Wisconsin.

TYME Corp., which was created by four banks in 1975, was based in Brown Deer. In the early 2000s, its TYME machines were doing millions of transactions per month.

Wisconsin wasn't the only state with a regional name for the machines.

While Tom Purnell — a University of Wisconsin-Madison professor of English language and linguistics — was living in Pennsylvania in the mid-1980s, he said the cash dispensing machines in that area were called MAC (money access centers).

"ATM (automated teller machine) is the generic term that is being used more widely now, overtaking the local variants," he said in an email.

In a 2001 Journal Sentinel story, Darryl Lund — president and chief executive officer of the Community Bankers of Wisconsin at that time — said that during his travels around the nation with the trade group, finding such strong brand recognition for a cash machine was rare.

"When we think of ATMs in Wisconsin, we think of TYME," Lund said.

"A lot of changes and variations in pronunciation reflect things that not just happen in our mouths, but also what happens in our ears," said Joe Salmons, a longtime professor of language sciences at the University of Wisconsin-Madison.

In many languages, when there's an "l" at the end of a syllable, it will mess with how people hear a preceding vowel, he explained, especially when the "l" is in the same syllable.

A similar example of this is pillow v. "pellow," he noted.

The "melk" pronunciation is also heard in other parts of the Midwest, he said. And while it's not exclusive to the state, it appears to be most common in eastern Wisconsin.

"I could not prove this in a court of law," Salmons said, "but there's a story among linguists about 'ope!' that makes a whole bunch of sense."

Sometimes people have the sense that a particular word doesn't have enough substance to it, he said, especially if it's going to be used for emphasis or exclamation.

So, they try to bulk it up in "all sorts of different ways."

In the English language, he said, there's an existing pattern that's been around for a long time of "yup" for "yes" and "nope" for "no."

" 'Nope' is a little more emphatic than just saying 'no,' " he said. "And 'yup' has got a certain flavor to it as well."

Using "welp" instead of "well" is another example of this concept at work.

Instead of just saying "oh," people added that "p" to build up the word, he said.

Why words like this start and gain traction in a particular place is hard to track down, though — including "ope!"

"What's interesting with any kind of linguistic form — it can be out there, any pronunciation or word or sentence structure — they take on particular social meanings," he said. "Sometimes it's an indication or a cultural identity or some social status. And sometimes it's a regional thing."

Want to go to a Bucks game with us, er no?

"Er no?" is called a tag question, according to Salmons. Other examples would be "isn't it?" or "don't you think?"

When Salmons moved to Wisconsin from North Carolina in the '90s, he said he was struck by just how much tag questions are used here.

"People use them all the time," he said. "More I think than in other parts of the country."

Most of the immigrant languages that were widely spoken in Wisconsin have lots of tag questions, he said.

"One of the things that happens with a lot of multilingualism and bilingualism is that you get this kind of indirect influence," he said. "You borrow certain words, but a lot of other times, we don't do it that directly. We take a structure and transfer it in some way."

Salmons said "er no" appears to be an English version of a common German tag question that translates to "or not."

"This would be a case where there was something people were used to doing and they just carried it over," he said.

Tag questions can also be a "low-level politeness thing," he said. They signal to the listener that you're concerned about whether they're following or understanding.

"There seems to have for nearly always been multiple pronunciations of this city's name," Purnell said in an email.

"One form is a little bit closer to the French, where you would have a stress on the second syllable," Salmons said. "And one is sort of more integrated into English."

The French language stresses the final syllable of words, Purnell said, which would account for the "Ruh-SEEN" pronunciation of the city's name.

Southern American and African American English like initial stress in two-syllable words, he said. Some immigrant languages, like Polish, also prefer initial stress on words of more than one syllable.

Both patterns of the city's name have been around for a long time, Salmons said. But there's a long-standing trend among English speakers to move the stress of words to the first syllable over time, he said, which puts us "ahead of the curve."

"I'm really curious what's going to happen in 50 or 60 years," he said.

Are hot dish and casserole the same? It's complicated.

And if you've ever been to a church potluck, there's a high probability you've had one or both.

In 2018, Taste of Home described hot dish and casserole as twin sisters who "dress really differently." While casseroles specify what's inside — think green bean casserole or tuna noodle casserole — that's not necessary with hot dishes, the article said.

According to Eater, all hot dishes are casseroles, but not all casseroles are hot dishes. A hot dish is made up of "a creamy sauce" that binds three "essential" components together — starch, protein and vegetable, the report said.

And while casseroles are often side dishes, hot dishes are traditionally the main course.

"The Dictionary of American Regional English" found that "hot dish" or "hotdish" is found only in the Upper Midwest, including Wisconsin, Minnesota, and parts of Michigan and North Dakota, Purnell said.

"We can imagine how this term came to be," Purnell said in an email. "When new technologies replace old ones, the name of the old technology still sticks."

Think of a stop sign at an intersection in the early part of the 20th century getting switched out with a flashing red light that serves the same purpose of pausing cars, Purnell said. Later, that intersection is upgraded to an indicator that uses green, red and amber lights.

In a community accustomed to calling the flashing red light a "stop and go" light, that name could transfer even when the style of light is replaced.

Much of the country calls it a "stop light," though Purnell points out it could as easily have been called a "go light." The term "stop and go light" is mostly used in the Upper Mississippi Valley, he said.

Contact Hannah Kirby at [email protected]. Follow her on Twitter at @HannahHopeKirby.