Shake Shake Shake!
Shake your booty!
(Is that song stuck in your head now?! You’re welcome!)
I was working from home when today’s 5.4 Chino Hills earthquake struck. The building shook suddenly and I thought the earthquake was over, until a rolling motion followed shortly thereafter. When the shaking started, I looked over at Yoshi (we were both in the office) to see if I was just imagining it or not. Once I got confirmation it was an earthquake (and things weren’t toppling down on us), I was like “I’m going to blog this before anyone else does!” And so I made this post at LA Metblogs WHILE THE ROOM WAS STILL SHAKING. Damn, I’m hardcore. Either that, or my survival instinct loses to my blogging instinct.
I’m just glad I wasn’t on-site at my client’s location at the moment (like I was supposed to be). I’d have been up on the 18th floor of a high-rise building. Having been through more minor quakes on the 20th floor at my old job, I know that I don’t like the swaying of tall buildings, and I especially dislike the creaking noises the building makes during and after a quake.
Anyway, right after I posted and checked the USGS website for info, I tried to call my Mom because she was much closer to the epicenter than I was (her house is approx 15 miles away). I have 3 different cell phones with 3 different carriers and none of them were working. So I picked up my land line and called Mom’s land line. It was just a relief when she answered the phone and I heard her voice.
I asked if everything was ok, and she said, “I tried to call you and your brother but the cell phones aren’t working. I was drinking coffee and it spilled all over the place and something fell on the piano and dented it, but I’m ok.” Then she described what she heard and felt: a loud boom followed by an intense shaking and then some rolling. She said that she was trying to wipe up the coffee but then when the shaking continued, she decided to grab her purse and run for the door (she was already near the front door). But as she got there, the shaking stopped.
I was just glad to hear that she was fine and she said, “The only thing that happened here is that the piano got dented, but it’s ok. It was already dented.”
Yes, our piano was already dented? Yes. It was caused by a JozQuakeâ„¢ several years ago.
The joke is that it first got dented by my fat ass. If only it got dented because I had buns of steel. But no. Here’s how it really went down…
One day I was backing up around the piano (beep! beep! beep!) and I misjudged where the piano was behind me (also, I misjudged how big my butt was). I backed right into the upright piano. BOOM!
There was a big scholar’s rock being displayed on top of the piano which began to teeter and totter precariously when I hit the piano with my ass and started the JozQuakeâ„¢.
My Dad was behind me and saw the toppling the scholar’s rock begin its journey in the general direction toward my oblivious backside. Dad tried to catch it but it was a pretty big rock and it wasn’t quite close enough to me to actually hit me so he thought better of it and let it crash onto the piano, rather than potentially hurt himself in the process. (I know you’re thinking, “It’s just a rock.” But let me just say, my Dad collected only the most beautiful, high quality, and expensive scholar’s rocks so this rock was undoubtedly worth well over several hundred dollars. Let’s not mention how much the piano cost.)
My Mom saw all this happen from across the room at yelled at me not to get hit by the rock while simultaneously yelling at my Dad for even thinking about catching it. (How my Mom can yell so many things at so many people at the same time still amazes me.)
Lucky for me, the rock did not hit me and ended up on the ground. Also lucky for me, the rock was undamaged, too. But the same couldn’t be said about the piano, seeing as it just got hit by a giant rock. DOH!
I assumed my Dad was going to be mad at me and my carelessness… for almost breaking his rock (he LOVED his rocks) and possibly my back, and especially for denting up the piano, so I apologized to him right away.
But instead of being mad, he kind of laughed and said to me, “It’s OK; just as long as you’re OK. Now every time I see the dent, I’ll just think of you.”
My Dad is the bestest!
PS – For those who are wondering, the Bro is fine, too.