The earth moved

Although I spent the first thirty-something years of my life in California, I experienced my very first earthquake last Friday. For all of the big ones I was always out of state; I was even watching the World Series game from North Carolina when the Loma Prieta one hit in 1989.

This one was 4.1 on the Richter scale, centered about 12 miles or so away from me.

It was a very strange sensation—I was sitting on my Ikea chair and felt it go sort of fluid. (The chair may have exaggerated the effect somewhat.) The bookcases swayed a bit and I heard a faint rattle of the glasses in the kitchen cupboard. Then, maybe a couple of seconds later, I heard something that sounded like maybe a bomb had been dropped about ten miles away.

I waited to see if it would repeat and I’d need to dash outside, but there was no follow-up that I could perceive.

My friends in Palm Springs have their kitchen cabinets earthquake-proofed (latches to prevent dishes and stuff falling out when the building shakes). They also have stores of bottled water and escape routes that don’t involve any kind of overpasses that could/would collapse in The Big One.

I figure that here in the South Bay we’re pretty well screwed. I’m reminded of some Discovery Channel docu on Vesuvius: authorities in Naples have a plan for how city dwellers would be notified and evacuation routes; but normal traffic is at a standstill. When Vesuvius blows, that’ll be all she wrote.

In the event of a serious quake in this area I’m thinking my best bet is to get out to the park across the street with my cat in a pillowcase (like I’m going to be able to catch her), a good book (because the cell network is going to be paralyzed) and my AmEx card for when things start sorting themselves out.