Seems I missed this thread twice, now...back in October, too. Always loved weather, so I've enjoyed all the offerings.

fog

When I worked as a mate on a tour boat here we where out on the ocean with the usual large group when a fog rolled in out-of-nowhere, as they often do on the coast. but this was the thickest pea-soup I ever saw. You literally almost couldn't see your hand extended in front of your face...out on the water the fog is much more opaque then on land, even right at the coast. The Captain couldn't see a thing...literally. And this was a good-sized boat, too, the size of a PT Boat. I knew we were in real trouble when the Captain summoned me to the bridge and told me, and the other hands, we had to go to the bowsrpit and keep lookout for other boats. The fog was so blinding there was really nothing to see...I literally couldn't see past the edge of the boat, it was like staring into a blind whiteness. I had heard of such paralysing maritime fogs in literature and meteorological writings, but I never experienced it first-hand. And, folks, it is truly frightening. I knew there was no way we could detect an approaching vessel in time. And this was back in the late 70's before a lot of today's new sound technologies 9though I doubt anything new would help in a situation like this). The Captain just kept blaring his fog horn. And he couldn't head for the inlet because we couldn't see the mile-long jetties there...and the thought of those rocks was always on your mind. Were we near them? We meandered around out there for almost an hour before the fog thinned enough to navigate towards shore again...a truly scary moment. Wouldn't want to go through it again. It was then I learned the significance of the refrain Eugene O'Neill (who spent much time at sea in his youth) used through the character of Kris Kristofferson, an old seaman, in his play Anna Christie..."Dat ol' devil fog." (and a foghorn is an important sound effect, constantly in the background, in Long Day's Journey Into Night.

(BTW, I grew up, here in New Jersey, to the expression "thick as pea soup" or "it's as thick as pea soup out there" whenever there was a particulary heavy fog, and driving was dangerous.)

slanted rain

Here on the East coast we get swiped by many Tropical Storms and minimal hurricanes. I remember my first experience with a Tropical Storm (sustained winds of up to 70 miles per hour with higher gusts and torrential rains) was in July of 1972 when I was vacationing here in Wildwood, NJ. A group of us had gone to an Elton John concert at the Wildwood Convention Hall on the Boardwalk that night which didn't cancel out despite the heavy weather. After a great concert, and a 20 minute encore of Take Me To The Pilot..."na!na!na!, na!na!na!"...(and a few of the usual party embellishments ), we walked out of the hall and onto the boardwalk in the driving wind and rain...and just hung there, suspended, at a 45% angle, the stinging pellets of rain driving into our faces in a horizontal fusillade like machine-gun bullets. Cool! I'll never forget it. Since then, whenever there's a Tropical Storm, or a minimal hurricane brushing the coast, we'd always try to capture that same experience, but, somehow, it's never quite the same as that night...

earthquake braggadocio

Think you may be reading that "brag" into posting by Easterners about earthquake faults in this region, sjm. While I'm a geology and meteorology buff, and know these faults are extant, and the damage they have done in the past, through studies...and sometimes like to mention their existence as a point of geological accuracy, I have no desire to experience an earthquake and would love it if these East Coast faults weren't extant at all. The main point is, most folks don't know the danger exists, and an East Coast quake, with most cities not built to withstand a tremor (no earthquake codes), could be a disaster and horror, depending on the intensity of the quake, which, I, for one, hope to never witness or experience. Not to mention the prospect of quake generated tsunami tidal waves when I live practically on the beach [shudder]...no thanks.

(I'd rather keep playing Russian Roulette with hurricanes...at least you get a running start)