If you put two Tar Heels together, you’d better call a referee, because you’re going to need a third opinion. You see, we Tar Heels are an arguing people. We debate basketball, barbecue, even beaches.

One word, in particular, leads to prolonged debate: pecan. More specifically, how you say pecan.

As the author of Pecans, I’ve crisscrossed the state to talk about the nut. And I can tell you this: Politics is peanuts compared to pecan pronunciation.

Pee-can or pah-cahn? At every book signing, book talk, and book sale, it’s been the subject of endless debate.

As reasoning goes, I’ve heard some doozies. I’ve been told that it’s “pah-cahn” if they’re on the tree and “pee-can” if they’re on the ground. “Pee-can” if they’re free and “pah-cahn” if you pay for them. Pee-can in pralines and pah-cahn in pies.

Conventional wisdom holds that the difference is regional, one more thing separated by the Mason-Dixon line. Sorry, but that’s just not so. I’ve listened to people from all over. And in my experience, this pronunciation isn’t North versus South.

It’s urban versus rural.

I’ve met people from upstate New York who say “pee-can,” and people from Charleston, South Carolina, who say “pah-cahn.” In my book, I told the story of my own parents and their “mixed marriage”: He was from Americus, a small town in South Georgia, and she was from the mighty city of Atlanta.

All of my childhood, I couldn’t say the word without being corrected: If I said “pah-cahn,” my father would accuse me of talking snobby. And if I said “pee-can,” my mother would sniff, “Pee-can? That’s something you put under the bed.”

So here’s the real rule: If you want to sound down-home or a little bit country, say “pee-can.” If you want to sound a little more urbane, say “pah-cahn.”

And if anyone corrects you, just smile and change the subject — to basketball.