So let's say you happen to meet someone who lives half a continent away — say, on the edge of the God-Forsaken Desert in Colorado, for instance — and sparks begin to fly, and next thing you know, said someone is moving up to the dank part of the country, and happens to be arriving at the onset of autumn.

The questions will begin immediately: People have this inexplicable need to want to know what they're getting into.

It's important to be patient and indulgent and answer all the questions openly and with at least as much honesty as one would expect from, say, a U.S. Defense Department briefing.

I throw out that last qualifier having learned that, due largely to blatantly misleading stereotypes about this region, too much truth all at once can be too much for many prospective Puget Sounders' sensitivities.

Especially when it comes to stuff like traffic, weather, the dearth of local political leadership, and where, exactly, the local NBA franchise will be playing the season after next.

In other words: Tell the truth — carefully, and eventually.

This, I'm in the process of doing right now as my partner Emjay, recently arrived in Escrow Heights, alternates between unpacking boxes and learning what it's like to ride single-track on trails covered by alternating layers of wet clay, green moss and squashed-banana-slug mousse.

In the spirit of cutting to the chase — and, perhaps, helping out someone in a similar future predicament — I offer the following set of questions and suggested essentially truthful answers for all prospective newcomers.

Cut, paste, laminate:

Q: Does it really rain from Oct. 1 to July 12?

A: Absolutely not. I remember a winter back in the day — "Melrose Place" was on the tube at the time — when the sun came out on Dec. 12. People stopped at midspan on the Evergreen Point Floating Bridge, dropped to their knees, and began worshipping it. I put on a Hawaiian shirt, pulled out a Jimmy Buffett cassette and made it to the second song before the sun set at its usual time — 2:45 p.m.

Q: Floating bridge? That's a good idea. Just bobs around forever, and no need to maintain it, right?

A: Uh, yeah.

Q: Whose idea was that?

A: As a matter of fact, we're looking for the guy right now.

Q: I saw a story that said Seattle had close to the worst traffic in the nation. Is it just a matter of insufficient capacity?

A: That, and lane campers. Something in Seattle's water causes drivers, whenever they enter a freeway left lane, to go into a catatonic state and drool at the wheel, completely oblivious to their surroundings, let alone laws that say rather unambiguously, "Keep Right Except To Pass." They don't care if they're causing a traffic backup from Montlake to Chula Vista. They believe it is their God-given right to impersonate a fungal growth whenever the left lane beckons.

Q: What happens to these people?

A: Most of them eventually wind up in the state Legislature, Western State Hospital or the owner's box of a major professional sports franchise.

Q: How do I get to Ballard?

A: Drive around with your seatbelt hanging out the door and your left turn-signal on. Eventually someone will find you and lead you home.

Q: What should I know about West Seattle?

A: It's lovely, and sort of an island unto itself in a social sort of way. Unfortunately, after the next big earthquake, it very likely will be an island unto itself in a physical sort of way.

Q: What's a Viaduct?

A: It's a geoduck with a shorter life span.

Q: Who makes all the big decisions about taxes, spending, social services, police and fire response and the court systems?

A: It used to be this frat-boy watch salesman from Mukilteo, but he turned out to be such a Rick Neuheisel of local politics that he was abandoned even by his own disciples. So these days, it's pretty much nobody.

Q: What's the best way to keep track of local events?

A: Subscribe to a local paper and pick up the two free weeklies. Either that or just turn on talk radio and listen to them read all the same stories in between rants about the utter uselessness of the mainstream media.

Q: What's the worst name you can call someone who does something really horrible to you, like cut in front of you in the block-long line to get out of Costco?

A: "Bobby Ayala."

Q: Where's the best place to go to get away from crowds and just sit and soak up some blissful silence?

A: Safeco Field.

That's pretty good for starters. Final advice: When they start asking about the Big Blue Tarp proliferation, feign violent illness or quickly change the subject.

Ron Judd's Trail Mix column appears here every Thursday. To contact him: 206-464-8280 or rjudd@seattletimes.com.

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