2003-09-07 12:42 p.m.
Hit The Floor, Hit the Ceiling
You may have heard we had a little earthquake the other day.
I came home to an upended CD shelf ("not built for earthquake country," as TheBoy pointed out, since a stiff breeze could blow it over) and a very unhappy cat. TheCat is, on balance, better off in California, since thunderstorms and earthquakes both freak her out and the sum total of cat-traumatizing events is less in California than in Texas. But knowing this doesn't help much when you're dealing with an animal who's alternately scrunching herself into a tiny, panicked ball and ricocheting off every available flat surface. And it certainly doesn't help her any, since it's hard to reason with a cat at the best of times, let alone when her fur is bushed out and her pupils are the size of dinner plates.
Of course, whenever we have a quake, even a relatively dinky one like last night, the Earthquake Preparedness patrol comes out of the woodwork. We live in earthquake country! they declare, in case there might be one or two people out there that haven't yet heard. Prepare to be abandoned and isolated and unloved and without TV for days at a time! they intone. And everybody but everybody is just full of advice. The gas company. The TV stations. The newspapers. Universities. (Did you know that maxi pads make "excellent compress bandages"?) Homeowners' associations. The insurance industry. Even hermit crabs are getting into the disaster preparedness business.
The city of Nagoya has not only named their earthquake in advance, they will have an Official Earthquake Announcement, just in case you didn't hear the first time.
The LA Fire Department's suggested earthquake supply list seems particularly over the top, especially for apartment dwellers. Among the suggested equipment is a tent, two different types of shovels, plastic sheeting AND tarps, cheese cloth and not just money, but "CASH MONEY". "If you are short on space," the brochure chirps, "a large trash can makes an excellent storage container. If you live in an apartment, the container can be hidden under a decorative tablecloth." (I knew firemen could cook; who knew they had decorating skills as well!) I'd like to know how the LAFD thinks I'm going to haul my festively-decorated trash can of axes and plastic sheeting down three flights of stairs that will undoubtedly be even more rickety than they already are now.
West Marin County seems particularly miffed that not only were they not properly included in a county disaster preparedness study, but that the county doesn't seem very prepared either.
Of course, where your government fails you, private companies are ready to step into the breach. The spike of interest in disaster kits, driven by post-9/11 terrorism fears, means that there are more products available for disaster-conscious Californians than ever before.
Such as HeaterMeals, bringing the fine field cuisine and advanced technology of the Army into your very own home!
These attractive emergency smoke hoods will probably do you more good in a post-quake fire than against whatever airborne toxins The Terrorists will dish out.
And in the post-quake chaos, if you're worried about looters robbing your neighborhood 7-11 or just breaking into your condemned dwelling and making off with your stereo, this home taser will take out the bad guys from 15 feet away -- and, since it's not a firearm, you won't have to bother with any of those pesky ATF regulations. Bonus!
When the stress of all those aftershocks unbalance your chakras, be sure to break out the Thumb-Ease< massage tools, or the survival playing cards, so you can treat frostbite and beat your family at hearts at the same time. Surely it's no coincidence that The Preparedness Center, which sells both of these items, is based in Ukiah, where nutty left-wing hippiedom and nutty right-wing survivalism converge.
At this point I'm not sure if I should be more afraid of the quakes or my fellow man. Either way, if anyone comes looking for me I'll be under the table.