So I’m on the phone in my home office and the window starts to rattle. Normally this means one of the neighbors is running to the laundry room to put in the fabric softener. But then the rooms starts to rattle. And the walls shake. The guy I’m talking to asks what’s going on. Another earthquake. The second 5.2 quake in less than a week for Los Angeles.
Well I think this is a sign that it’s time for me to move. Not that earthquakes scare me so much. I grew up in Boston during the years when the region was hit by monster blizzards and vicious hurricanes at a pretty regular clip.
But when I moved back from San Francisco to Boston in ’89, it was the week of the Loma Prieta quake. I mean, I was unpacking and watching the World Series back in Massachussetts when the thing hit. When I moved to Texas in ’97, there was a tornado that touched down in Silicon Valley not 2 miles from my house – and twisters in California are damn rare. When I moved to LA two years ago, it was during fire season.
Natural disasters have always seemed to be a signal of a change in location for me, it seems. So I need to find me a job – I’m hoping for Las Vegas. I’m a little weary of California traffic and taxes and so on. I love California, actually – but I need a break from it for a couple of years. I need a change. And these quakes tell me that It Is Time.