Doodling on my dry erase board from day to day, I scribbled a cast of "light characters" this past year as a kind of joke among my colleagues. There was C.F. Elliott, the adolescent compact fluorescent who was undergoing a swirling identity crisis. He was losing his individuality; no longer did he differ noticeably from his peers-consistency was becoming his middle name. His mentor, Inky, the senescent incandescent, had always resembled his fellow A lamps. As happens to most creatures steady and safe, Inky had become boring and taken for granted, so he just looked on, unfazed, as his rival C.F struggled to gain his footing.
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