Tsunami? What Tsunami?

Last night, I returned home around 8pm from my usual weeknight gym date and, upon entering my sun-drenched flat, was somewhat puzzled not to be greeted by two purring felines circling my ankles as they typically do when I arrive home after a long day's absence.

"Where are you, girls?" I called out into the vast expanse of my palatial, 400-square-foot abode. No response. Very curious.

Moments later, as I peeled sweaty workout clothes from my aching muscles, I noticed four little yellow-green eyes peering from under my bed and encouraged their owners to venture forth (which they did, after some hesitation). Very curious, thought I.

Entering the bathroom, I flicked on the perpetually-tuned-to-NPR radio perched atop the toilet (as I tend to do immediately whenever entering the loo... I like company while I do my business, especially Harry Shearer or the Car Talk guys).

Flushed from my workout, I stood there entirely unclothed, listening to what initially sounded like an emergency broadcast system test but which turned out to be (dunh-dunh-DUNH!) a tsunami warning. Pardon me, but... WHAT?

Blah, blah, blah... 7.4 magnitude earthquake... blah blah blah... 85 miles north... 90 miles offshore. I froze. Why in the bloody hell had I, in my constant state of earthquake hyper-awareness, not felt this rather weighty tremor? I had exited HealthSport only moments before the reported quake time of 7:50pm. Was I driving so fast in my zippy black Jetta that I didn't feel a major friggin' earthquake? Am I that oblivious to the world beneath my wheels?

All signs point to yes. But I'm glad that, for once, I was able to essentially "sit out" a natural disaster that would have had me sufficiently spooked had it occurred 15 minutes later, while I was lathering up and rinsing from my skin the glistening proof of the ass-kicking I'd received in my cycling class.

The somewhat disjointed news reports warned that an earthquake of that magnitude could cause a tsunami within 30 minutes. I looked at the clock. Could I squeeze in a shower before the panic and mass destruction set in? Yes, I think so. The calming voice on the radio warned those of us in coastal areas (um… that would be ME) to seek higher ground. I busted out the body wash.

Thankfully, the mile or two separating my house from the Pacific Ocean is swathed with sandy dunes, not to mention the many blocks’ worth of other structures that would easily deflect much of the wave’s power before it struck my little haven. Plus, I live on the second floor. That’s high enough ground for me, I thought as I lathered, demonstrating infinite bravery and pluck by intentionally disobeying the orders of authorities to flee!

No sooner had I towelled off than the phone calls began pouring in--concerned friends who’d heard news of the giant quake checking to make sure I was alright, that my house hadn’t washed away with me in it, wanting to know just where in the hell was Crescent City, anyway? Far enough, said I. This time.

Posted by ayelet at June 15, 2005 03:12 PM