If you ever have occasion to experience an earthquake and not die – and your luck is bound to run out, sooner or later – do yourself a favor, and enjoy the ride.
Yesterday’s quake was actually pretty tame. No one died. Little damage occurred. But it was pretty cool. Nothing brings together the SoCal community like a good, old-fashioned tremor. Immediately I was on the blower seeing if friends were okay and how much they'd felt it.
I was home when it happened, and it felt like being on a boat hitting some rough waves. My dog, who had been napping outside, got spooked, so I ran outside in the middle of it to pet him and help him feel safe. Pit Bulls are tough enough to handle just about anything, except acts of God (and acts of Michael Vick.)
Petey and I are on the ground floor, so we had it better than most. The guys I really felt for were some construction workers across the street, who were up the third floor of the frame of a house. The higher up you go, the more you feel it. Those guys had a good scare.
Truth be told, I’d been looking forward to days like this when I moved to L.A. I'd always been excited to experience this town’s cool factor: sunshine, beaches, celebrities. But I also looked forward to the quirks: O.J. cases, Schwarzenegger as governor and seismic episodes.
I don’t have earthquake insurance. But let’s face it– when your most valuable possession is a copy of Kangaroo Jack on VHS, your money is better spent elsewhere.
