We're OK, America!

I can't tell y'all how amused I've been at today's breathless reporting of the "moderate earthquake" that hit Southern California during my lunch hour.

I was sitting in my cube, shooting the t'ish with the guy across from me, when the walls shook for about seven seconds. Even conceding that the epicenter was 100-some miles north of San Diego, this one was nothing. Reports that tonight's Dodgers game would STILL be played in Los Angeles represent the type of press coverage I'd expect from people who still think we get a couple of 'quakes a week.

Here's the thing…in all the years I've lived in California, there have been exactly two earthquakes that I actually remember. In 1987, a 5.9 centered near the city of Whittier (about 15 minutes north of my hometown, Long Beach) sloshed the water out of our apartment complex's swimming pool like the aftermath of my son's bath time. Then, in 1994, a 6.7 woke my Black ass up at 4:30 in the morning on Martin Luther King Day. That one also killed 72 people, injured 12,000 and caused $12.5 billion in damages.

And, it woke me up on my day off!

All I'm saying is that of all the things to fear in this state, earthquakes rank somewhere down around the inch or two of rain that we get at rush hour…once or twice a month…from the months of December to March.