That's right. Gimme a good old 6.4 on the Richter scale any day over a
hurricane like that one.

Earthquakes. What a trip. No warning. One minute you're sitting at the
dining table, your mind a million miles away. The next minute your
chair is dancing across the floor all by itself. Most of the time
you're still in it. There's a big noise. Your heart stops for a moment.
Your brain reels from the impossibility of ground that ripples like
sheets in the wind. You wait for the distant hills to come crashing
down into your living room but it doesn't quite happen.

This lasts for a minute or two (or maybe three, although it seems like
forever). Then, as quickly as it starts, everything is still and quiet
except the vehicle alarms and the barking dogs. You get your breath
back, check for missing arms & legs, then get up and make sure everyone
else is okay.

But, essentially, it's over. You've managed to live through another
one. Pick up the broken dishes and the smashed glass and move on.

All my sympathy to my pals in the gulf states. You got big brass ones.

-chib