Alternative Route

Protocol: unobtrusive; tender mingles; relaxed. Jolly Jingles.

Aesop to Twain... what's your 20?

"One froggy lookin' trading post."

One of those "gotta stop in some day" v. the usual place.

The Dutchman's place. Good venue for sports congregants.
Swell guy juxtaposed. Nice girls.

Been here many times on business.

Toward the freeway.

I shook hands with someone who shook the hand of the Pope.

Another one we delighted.

Long time service providers.
Old standby: "It's the compressor."

Problematic tower! Is microwave tenancy or what? Find out.
Same goes for that blemish.

Firehouse melding into neighborhood.

Because experiences hereabouts since arrival include people whose privacy and livelihoods cannot be compromised, I'm quandaried and oft revert to faraway places when commiserating with the locals - although I are one. At least, I should say, that's when I'm most enthusiastic, especially when it comes to relating stories like feeding time at the Goose in Portland. Or the first boffo spring afternoon at Bethesda Fountain.

Presently, such persons are like a fellow who's got a disdaining attitude toward me for some reason (probably on account of a previous exchange) and with whom I'd like to consult regarding this very exercise. I know using the HTML approach will expedite the resolution of many issues herein; spacing is the paramount complication. Contemporaneously, it would be fun to sit down with him, learning the short-cuts as I share my shots.

Too bad there's these persnickety obstacles to très agréable camaraderie. We might also discuss the Lincoln Brigade I heard about from guys on benches, et cetera.

For now, there's the usual care to mind his space and respect his flanks - he's pretty touchy. I understand; ten-foot pole and all. People have no right to incur themselves upon others without informed consent. It is, you see, an attempt to take possession of an object of desire. Elementary, I should think, and much taken for granted.