Chippewa Square, Savannah, Georgia. A statue of James Oglethorpe, founder both of the Colony of Georgia and the City of Savannah. I was, inveterate (I do so love that word.) writer and self-proclaimed artist that I am, putting on paper the entire inscription from the four sides of the pedestal, even though it consisted mainly of the Charter of the Colony of Georgia, which I could have downloaded in two clicks. There was just a pressing need, an artistic necessity, to copying it down myself. After volunteering answers to several questions by a troupe of girl scouts, I was declared “smart”: upon hearing the words, “I'm a writer” in response to the inquiries as to my reasons for standing in front of the statue and very obviously copying verbatim the inscription, "That explains it." Hmmmm . . .
   Enter Harry. He's a freelance tour guide who really knows the history of the area. After trying unsuccessfully to convince me I would be better to go to the visitor's centre (I hate visitor's centres) and find the inscription I was so diligently (dutifully?) transcribing in a convenient printed brochure, he volunteered a complimentary “tour” of Chippewa Square and environs. (The notes from this impromptu stockstill tour will be used in another travelogue entry, so I'll leave out the historical details here.)
   A European accent, he said. He asked me where I was from, and when I confirmed California (which I had already named as my final destination), he asked, "No, originally. You're from Europe, right?" i demurred, and he explained, "You have a little bit of an accent. It sounds European." I think I've decided to be flattered by such.

[I have really delved into a beloved persona of mine today: the sophisticat, the artist. I even dressed my part, with a “sophisticated casual”, nearly Santa Barbarian look. If I didn't have moral predilections against it, I would say I probably would have looked at home at a wine tasting.]