Good luck fog

A good, thick fog casts the world in new light - and leads to near-accidents I'd be nowhere near in normal visibility.

It hung thick this morning. The region draws its share of regular fog, but this it camped out in the trees and made for interesting navigation on a morning with more 5 a.m. traffic than any other in the year.

With the third floors of buildings across the street completely shrouded.
For once, I could not attribute the fogginess to heat bleeding out of the apartment through ancient window glass.

I watched briefly through the haze as the bargain hunters swarmed into the nearby Target's parking lot. It was an Allegory of the Cave moment: If through the fog I can only see headlights flashes from cars driven by Black Friday shoppers, do the shoppers really exist?

A walk across street confirms they do indeed, Plato ... and you'll join Socrates if you get between them and the last Extreme Tickle Me Elmo.

All of this is a symptom of a work day with little to accomplish by tacking three inches onto a few half-written columns, composing a paean to Tom Waits in 2006 and burning CDs for friends.