Friday, July 16, 2010
Earthquake? If you say so. . . .
| At 5 a.m. this morning an earthquake rumbled through the area. Or at least that's what the folks who monitor such things say. 5 a.m. is the time to be asleep. Sound asleep. Not up getting preened to go to a job you hate. Not up watching the talking heads bitch about the news. 5 a.m. is the time for tranquil sleep. The rats will still be racing when you get out there to join them at a more reasonable hour. People at work were talking about pictures rattling on walls and all sorts of hoodoo voodoo surrounding the quake. When they were marveling at the side effects of plate tectonics I was having an nightmare. For some reason my mother had escaped from the assisted living. She had taken the dog, my credit cards, and the car. She was putting the hammer down heading for her house in Florida. Wearing only shorts, Reeboks, and a sleeveless T-shirt she was driving a 1992 Ford Taurus through a blizzard down I95. I was trying to figure where she would stop for the night. I was calling the police and the credit card company. I was anticipating what mom would say when she found out I sold her house. An Earthquake was in no way as terrifying as mom finding out I sold her house. Nothing on the planet has ever struck me to be as terrifying as my family. I don't think anything ever will. |
