About an hour ago the earth shook and I didn't even get to feel it because I was driving to the airport for my trip to Portland.
Every other state that has horrible natural disasters at least get warnings, us Californians usually don't know it hit until it's over. For a minute you look at each other to make sure somebody else feels what your feeling and that it s just not the tacos you ate last night. Even after you both make eye contact and say, "maybe we should get under a doorway" by the time you get off the couch to do so, it' over. No big whoop. Not so much shaking as a gentle roll. As it happened I was driving by the Mormon space ship in La Jolla and I thought, "now that would be a funny way to die." But I was spared. I know deep in my heart I will be killed on my 80th birthday while running with the bulls.
I was once knocked unconscious during an earthquake in the 80's. My sister and I were asleep when the quake hit and I awoke screaming for my mom. Like a good sister she picked me up to take me down the hall to my parents room. I just wished she would have payed more attention as we turned the corner because maybe then my head would not have hit the wall. Since I stopped crying (you can't cry when your knocked out) she guessed my meltdown had passed and returned me to my bed. And that, boys and girls, is why I am the way I am: Earthquake related brain trauma.
