Fog on the Highway

This morning one of those thick fogs settled in over the whole area. The kind of fog that makes me lose track of where I am on my route as all references to time and space disappear only to reveal hints and outlines of objects as I drift past wondering if I’ll miss the exit, the turn off, an oncoming car.

Drifting through memory to other foggy mornings, I recall driving to Dallas in ’94. I had a gig working as a grip for one of the networks that was covering a golf tournament. My car was on its last legs, but I hoped it would make it since the pay would be solid.

After about an hour on the road, I completely lost track of my location. I felt like a living example of Heisenberg’s Uncertainty Principle. I knew my speed and direction, but had only the vaguest notion of my location, which had been reduced to a series of probabilities: I was somewhere between Austin and Dallas.

Somewhere in the great foggy between, the car stopped, and I coasted through the gray predawn, drifting on a downhill slope towards what appeared to be an exit. I steered to the exit and picked up some momentum, enough to take me a little ways down and over to the shoulder of the access road.

Naturally, the car wouldn’t start, and I couldn’t see more than about twenty feet in any direction, so I started hiking north. I didn’t have to walk far before shapes began to materialize. As I approached, these shapes took on the outline and density of cars. Lots of cars.

As I walked closer, a sign emerged and I saw that I was at a car dealership. I walked in out of the fog and a salesman, who was just opening the place up, came to greet me and asked, “What can I help you find?”

“Umm, me. Where am I?” Sounding a bit like an amnesiac.

That’s when I found out I was in Waco…

And then, this morning, I drifted out of memory, off the highway, down another exit ramp, a bit unsure of my exact location, uncertain if I was on the right exit, but knowing the road would lead me somewhere.