Two natural disasters have taken place on the East Coast of the United States recently: an earthquake and a hurricane. On August 23rd, an earthquake with a magnitude of 5.8 shook Virginia. Shaking was felt in surrounding areas including where I live in New York City. Everyone had a story that evening. I remember meeting some friends later in my neighborhood. We went around the table. One of my friends was at the bar she works at, and all of the glasses started rumbling, some falling to the ground. They stood in the door frame in front of the kitchen. One of them was at home with his dog, who immediately went nuts, darting around the room. Another was evacuated from her office building in midtown. Finally everyone had told their story, and all eyes were on me. Where was I? I was sitting on the toilet. And I had felt nothing.
Now, as I said before, this was a 5.8 in Virginia. While it certainly caused some damage, it was far from a full fledged disaster. But still, it was an event that everyone was talking about in New York and I had missed it. And how?? How did everyone feel it but me? Did I have my feet pushed up against the door of the stall for leverage or something? Was it timed in a specific way that the rumble of the earth coincided with the rumble of my body and I didn’t even notice? We never get earthquakes! Why did I have to shit through this one! I guarantee that every person who lives in California has pooped their way right through an earthquake because California has twelve earthquakes a day*. But this was my one chance!
Well, when God closes a door, he opens a window. And then hurricane water comes in through that window and floods your basement apartment. Just a few days later was more cause for alarm. New York shut down the Subway system (and most Subway sandwich shops) due to Hurricane Irene. Neighborhoods at risk of severe flooding were evacuated, including my neighborhood of Red Hook in Brooklyn. With a Go Bag filled with hopes and dreams, a change of underwear and a lot of whiskey, I evacuated to my friend’s house in Park Slope. And reader, do you know how I spent the hurricane? Getting drunk and watching the movie Demolition Man. Now don’t get me wrong, Demolition Man is a great movie. It might just be the best movie. But once again New York was struck with an oddity of a disaster and I have very little to say about it. I was left draining water out of my basement all morning, but saw nothing of the chaos that put it there. Like a maid who never got to meet the Rolling Stones, but washed goat blood off their hotel room walls with industrial strength cleaner.
Now we may be out of natural disasters in New York for this year. But ever since I saw that documentary about a Volcano where Tommy Lee Jones saved the city of Los Angeles from burning lava (you guys recovered really well by the way), I am aware that the possibility of a volcano erupting in an unsuspecting metropolis is an entirely plausible possibility. And on that day, I’ll be there. I hereby vow to never linger on porcelain again.
* Scientific fact.
this was funny. thanks for writing it.
sitting on the can for an earthquake, and then being forced to talk about it at a resturaunt. that seems so ny.
the wasatch front had a big quake when i was a kid, like a 5 or 6. but we were in the basement, my whole family, and we didn’t feel anything. i think maybe even something fell in our living room. it really bugged me as a third grader to hear all the stories, and then tell people “but if you’re in your basement maybe your’re safe!” I would have much rather felt the shake.
Pedants and fans of The Wire Season 5 will note a connection between “pooped their way right through an earthquake” and “I evacuated to my friend’s house.”
One of my favorite radio clips off all time was an interview with a guy who was in the shower during the 1989 San Francisco earthquake. When the quake hit, his first thought was to run, but then he thought, “I’m naked! Everyone will see me!” So he spent several existentially agonizing moments trying to decide whether the earthquake was in fact serious enough to warrant the embarrassment of running around naked.
During that same earthquake, a friend of mine was playing ultimate frisbee on a big grassy field at Berkeley. Because of all the running around and diving, he didn’t notice any shaking. On his walk home, he idly wondered why so many things seemed to be on fire; then, when he let himself into his apartment, he thought he’d been robbed, because all of his things were strewn all over the floor. It was only when his girlfriend finally reached him on the phone that he learned about the quake.
I moved away from San Francisco temporarily about three weeks before the 1989 quake. It drove me NUTS to be so far away, and I just wanted to have been there even though I obviously could have been hurt. The only benefit was that I had TV coverage and could report to my friends there what was going on, since none of them did. (For example, I knew the bridge had broken before most of them did.) Being far from the epicenter of a disaster in your home spot is only a relief if it’s truly and irrevocably devastating, I think; otherwise you’d (or at least I’d) rather weather whatever comes just to not feel so far away from what you care about.
I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again: Andrew, you’re a treat.
hey andrew, we should have a brklyn meet up. doesn’t TMK play at some music bar over there in The Hook?
Could be fun. I just met some GW peeps in LA, it was nice. I’m in the slope.
Lane – I don’t know what TMK is, but a Brooklyn meet up sounds good! Would love to put a face to words.
Swells – I was nervous to post something goofy about hurricanes after the fantastic New Orleans photos you posted. Glad you liked it.
LP – I wonder, if I’d felt the earthquake in the bathroom, would I have run out into the halls with my pants around my ankles? It will remain a mystery…
k-sky – Haha it was unintentional but I know exactly what you’re talking about…