Reality Jolt

Note to self: Check the batteries. Replace the water. Make sure those Power Bars are still fresh and that the canned peas haven’t expired.

As if we needed reminding that we all are visitors to earthquake country, the ground sent a pair of jolting refreshers last week with twin temblors near Chatsworth. They were the sort of gentle geological nudges that, before Jan. 17, 1994, some might even have considered fun.

But even now, more than four years after the Northridge earthquake, each shift of the ground beneath our feet sparks a response that is perhaps as far as the soul can get from fun. It is the collision of refined reason and raw fear.

Reason dictates that the statistical likelihood of that first tentative twitch exploding into full-scale seismic chaos is small and that it’s best to just go along for the ride. Fear, fueled by frantic memories of the Northridge quake, infuses the blood as the underside of a desk beckons.

And in those awkward seconds between surprise and panic, the Earth reminds us how small each of us as individuals is as miles-deep plates grind away as they have for millions of years.

P.S. to self: Remember to hug the wife.