Over the weekend local folks "celebrated" the 28th anniversary of when Mount St. Helens blew her top. We can see the now trapezoidal-shaped mountain from lots of spots around the county since we're less than 40 miles away from it.
I was at a small gathering a few weeks ago where long time residents were comparing stories about where they were during the eruption. They talked of wearing those little white elasticized masks for a few weeks afterwards and how it took many long days of shoveling and brushing to get everything clean again. They all remembered how even several years later, when they were teenagers on sports teams, they would see little poofs of ash clouds rise from football and soccer fields as they ran around in the shadow of a very alive mountain.
And even with all of that, I'd still rather be here than in more active earthquake country. Yes, I know technically I do actually live in earthquake country. And yes, we have things strapped down. And, of course, no picture frames shall ever be hung over a bed at Woodhaven. Some old California habits die very hard. But really, it doesn't feel all that unstable here. In 4 years, I haven't felt the slightest tremor. And having experienced that 7.1 Loma Prieta/World Series/Watch-a-section-of-the-Bay-Bridge-collapse 1989 earthquake in much too big a way to be amusing, I'd really be ok if I never felt a shaker again.
My firm lack of interest in earthquakes was solidified for me a few days ago when my mom sent me the following list. Mom and Dad live in Reno. They are hardy, experienced California natives who aren't easily rattled by a swarm of quakes. They no doubt find the list funny. I find it confirmation that as natural disasters go, I now much prefer being surrounded by occasionally puffing volcanoes.
Courtesy of RGJ.com, here is "You might be a Northwest Reno resident If …"
· While shopping for a new dining room table, you bring the entire family to RC Willey to make sure you all fit underneath it.
· “Family Game Night” includes copious rounds of Uno, Scrabble and “Guess the Magnitude.”
· The USGS Web site is your home page, and you check the UNR Seismology site as frequently as you check your email.
· You believe the “Triangle of Life” is so last week.
· You can now hear the earthquakes before they arrive.
· You are spackling and painting your walls — why not, there aren’t any pictures on them anyhow.
· You get mad at the kids when they’re snacking out of the earthquake bin in the garage.
· “I’ve felt 25 earthquakes today?” you reflect. “What a great day!”
· Your children know what “Rabbit in the hole” means.
· The “Living with Earthquakes in Nevada” publication that you found last week in the RGJ has become your coffee-table book.
· You know the exact latitude and longitude of your home.
· You can adeptly convert UTC to Pacific Daylight Time.
· Earthquake insurance brochures and estimates are in your “To File” stack.
· You debate the philosophical underpinnings of “aftershock or foreshock” with your family and neighbors.
· Wall hangings = floor leanings.
· You have narrowed down the lag time between an earthquake and the moment the magnitude posts to the UNR Seismo site to 11 minutes and 42 seconds – give or take.
· Your car is parked in your driveway — and not because there’s no room in the garage.
· You take a shower in your swim suit; after all, who wants to be naked when the “Big One” hits?
· On your nightstand next to the latest Eckhart Tolle book and your Carmex is a Maglite flashlight and a crescent wrench you’ll use to turn off the gas.
· The pharmacist doesn’t even ask if you need the briefing about Xanax anymore.
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