An article from 2015. How close are we now?
Today the waking hours of waning day light here in Michigans Upper Peninsula was depressingly dark and gloomy. Old man winter has begun his ritual ceremonial dance for the seasons dominance with heavy gray clouds, cold brisk winds and a pissy drizzle from above. His signature warning is a prelude to a 6 months serving of cold, wet, white stuff. It was a day where you just wanted to eat, sleep and hibernate in front of a fire in the woodstove with a hot cup of tea. I say, wanted to. I was not that lucky, I had to go out into the world and briefly leave my woodland sanctuary and little cabin.
As I reached town, I merged with all the other zombie drivers who couldn’t decide which lane they wanted to drive in. The brain seems to disengage in chaotic traffic. 90% of the zombie drivers had a small, black, rectangle shaped piece of plastic held…
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