Ready for the BIG ONE

After losing my virginity to the 4.1 earthquake last week and hearing about the 6.5 earthquake just up the road, I began to seriously look for information on how to be ready for The Big One. I found several websites with lists on what to have on hand to Be Prepared. Using the Emergency Survival Program's Make Disaster Kits, I started to collect stuff. The lists, part of an awareness campaign developed by the state, have three parts - Household, Personal, and Pets. While each section lists many items you would expect - food, water, first aid supplies - there are also some unusual ones..... like non-latex exam gloves, litter pans and litter, road maps. And "manual can opener" is listed three times. So I got that first. And THEN if you study the lists - which I have been doing all week - you will note that there are some VERY important omissions...... like toilet paper and a shovel and a saw (shovel to make a latrine pit.... saw to cut wood to burn and to get to stuff in the wooden wreck of my house.... you get the picture). I started shopping and brought home a carful of stuff - camping stove and gas, canned food, bottled water and jugs to fill with water. The list for personal supplies suggested a backpack that could be kept by the door and grabbed on the way out. So I got one and filled it with spare eyeglasses, whistle, snack foods (like chocolate), water. I even got those suck-all-the-air-out-so-you-can-pack-more-stuff bags and put a set of spare clothes in, sucked the air out and had a neat tiny package to add. We have copied personal papers and included them as well. And then the earthquake hit Haiti....... and all week I have been looking a pictures of the devastation and death. The quake happened Tuesday and supplies/aid is still just trickling in. I have thought about being isolated with no help for days. It made The Big One here more real. But I don't live in a cement block building with poor construction because there are no building codes. And I have the ability to get supplies ahead of time and be prepared. And I don't live on an island with a corrupt government and a poor infrastructure for community assistance. So I fill my four plastic bins - labeled with a list of the contents of each taped to the lid and sorted by need - and I practice to STOP-DROP-HOLD ON which is what you do when the shaking starts. And I feel a bit more secure.
I have been asking other San Joseans if they have emergency supplies put away. Surprisingly, most don't. Even the ones who lived through that last Big One - 1989. One lady described how the floor of one of her rooms completely dropped away and her sewing machine was hanging in midair by the cord which was still plugged into the wall. The only thing she does is to keep a pair of shoes by the bed. That way, she can slip them on and walk out through any broken glass. Good idea. I added it to my list. I am feeling a bit self righteous about being the NoCal newbie and being so prepared. A bit like one of the wise virgins with the lamp oil from the New Testament or the pig in the brick house of Three-Little-Pigs fame or a Boy Scout (Be Prepared!). But what I also feel, as I watch the bodies being piled up on the streets in Port au Prince, is very lucky to be ABLE to be so OCD and get prepared. So bring on The Big One...... I'm ready.

Sunday Morning

It is Sunday morning..... Mark is on a bike ride (training for his Charity Treks ride next August) and I have just started a second pot of coffee. It is a chilly 47 outside and the fog makes the trees all white and fuzzy around the edges. I have just come back from the Farmers' Market. Every Sunday from 8:30 to 12:30, local farmers, bakers, tamale makers and popcorn poppers bring their wares to Jackson St. in Japantown. It is a pleasant walk from our mouse house and Mark and I usually head down after breakfast and some NY Times crossword. But today, I went alone. Our neighborhood is very quiet with only the birds chattering away. I pass many neatly trimmed lawns. Small bushes pruned into tiny round balls. Grass precisely edged. As I near the market, the Filipino Community Center is bustling with activity. The curb outside is full of drums, amplifiers, people in elegant black suits. A man carrying a silver trumpet is followed by a small boy into the building. While most of the businesses on the main street are closed, the Japanese grocery is open. Customers come out laden with bags. The farmers' market is also busy. I smell popcorn and tamales and hear many languages. Because Mark and I come to the market most weeks, I am beginning to recognize the vendors. There is the young man selling Beckman' Old World Sourdough bread - quite tasty especially the asiago rosemary sourdough and the great pastries. Across from him are the gentlemen who sell olives, hummus, pita and other Mediterranean delights. We love the kick-in-the-pants green olives that have something in them that makes your eyes water. Further down are the ladies that sell mushrooms. Mark gets the Shitake ones and turns them into the most mouthwatering things like spring rolls. I get some to inspire him to cook one night this week. And then I visit the very attractive Hispanic man who sells the most interesting fruit. He has Hand-of-Buddha citron again. I tell him I made a bread with mine last week and it wasn't bad. His eyes light up and twinkle as he says, "Pretty strong?" Not too bad if you add enough sugar I reply. I buy a bag of navel oranges, an avocado and a persimmon. I sample some of the dried fruits he carries - pears, peaches, raisins as big as cherries, persimmons..... I get a container of mixed fruit (great in oatmeal). I ask about cherries. And he smiles his great smile and tells me they sold out. That's what I get for lingering so long at home. Across from him are the Asian ladies who sell huge piles of green stuff. I recognize the broccoli and cauliflower (as big as a basketball) and eggplant. But at the far end of her stall are tables of greens or mysterious origin. I watch as several small elderly Asian ladies minutely inspect each bunch before selecting one. I must get brave, buy one and test it out. But not today. This week the mother vendor (I assume she is the mother) is wearing a warm hat with furry ear muffs. Last time, she had a blanket tied around her head. Her two daughters help customers and play with each other during lulls. There are very few lulls. The final stop for me is the flower vendor. I find the most interesting flowers - Bells of Ireland, star gazer lillies, and more that I don't recognize. I have purchased two bunches of something with green leaves that have a reddish/orange tip and yellow green centers. The lady tells me what they are, but I'm not sure I hear correctly. Damn ears! She says they will last a month - I got that part. As I leave, I decide to get apples at another fruit stall. I pick out Pink Ladies and start chatting with the young man who is hopping from foot to foot. "Cold isn't it' he says. Yes and I don't have to stand out here for four hours. He replies that he arrived at 6am and couldn't set up until 8:30am. So he emptied the open-topped trailer and crawled into the middle to keep warm and wait. I try to be cheery and say that at least the days are getting longer and soon it will be getting warmer. He doesn't look convinced. My arms are full of flowers, oranges, fruit and veg. So I head for home through quiet streets and misty fog and birds shivering on telephone wires....... I think I'll have that second cup of coffee now.

A Virginal Experience

Well, I’m not a virgin any more. An earthquake virgin that is (thank you Lynne). I have been initiated at last. It all happened on a quiet Thursday morning. I was drying my hair and had a book-on-iPod going….. which means I couldn’t hear a thing except the book.  And I felt a slight tremble in the floor and a loud-ish boom. I assumed it was loud because I could hear it OVER the  book-on-iPod. It sounded an felt like a big truck had just driven past the house. I say that because when Copp Motors hot rod drivers roared past my elderly Maine house in their semi-tractor-trailer tow truck, it sounded and felt just like that. So I didn’t think anything about it. And then the cell phone started vibrating…… Mark – “Are you all right?” Me – “Yeeeaaahhhh…….. why?” Mark – “Well, we just had an earthquake and I thought you might be freaking out”. FREAKING OUT???? EARTHQUAKE????? Me – “REALLY?? And I thought it was just a truck going by. Nothing is moving or shaking here. Is that all it is? Piece of cake!” Mark – “Well, we are on the third floor and everything shook here.” Hmmm….. And then another call came in. Julie (from Quilting group) – “Did you feel it?” Me – “Well, not really.” Julie – “No (sounding a bit disappointed)? At least you have had your first one! (sounding happy as if I had had my first date)” And then I called Meredythe-in-Maine all excited to tell her I had been initiated. Me – “I think we just had an earthquake!” Meredythe – “Really? Let me check……. Yes, and it was 4.1 in magnitude” Me – “How did you find out so fast?” Meredythe – “It’s on this website….” So I went to the site – earthquake.usgs.gov. The US Geological Service posts all earthquake activity from around the world. And there was my own personal first earthquake listed. How exciting. And all sorts of information about it…. Like it was 6 MILES below the surface and in Milpitas (about 8 miles away). I was also able to get additional information about earthquakes. Like this one was pretty common and no big deal. I guess there are LOTS of quakes between 2 and 5, some between 5 and 5.9 and only a few above 6. Which is a good thing as with each 1 degree increase in magnitude, the amount of energy released is 10 times more.  And, best of all, there is a link to “Did You Feel It?” which of course I had to go to and complete the questionnaire so that I could be part of the Total earthquake experience. The questionnaire asks you things like what type of building were you in, did any major appliances move, any furniture move or get damaged, trees/powerlines, buildings collapse….. the usual thing.  This time I had to say no. Now, don’t get me wrong. I’m not hoping for a Big One. But it could happen. So I also checked out the section on the site about being prepared. And I printed out the list of stuff we should have on hand. AND I told Mark that TODAY we would start collecting things to put in a safe place. Because, now that I am no longer a virgin I must be prepared.

A New Trick for an Old Dog

I wanted to thank all of you who have left comments about the blogs. I just figured out they were there and how to read them! Oh well...... And, Boz.... I'll check out the Red Cross site for earthquake info. Thanks.

Biker Gangs in NoCal

Mark hangs out with biker gangs. They wear similar outfits, have a lingo unique to their group, special vehicles..... all the symptoms. The latest gang he rode with was the Wobbly Wheelers. This particular gang rides 30 miles every Wednesday. Now, you may be picturing burly leather-covered hairy guys on souped up Harleys rumbling around the countryside. But this gang is in spandex pedaling around San Jose. And the median age is 75. So, now that I've modified your perception, let me add that this group of retired gentlemen has taught Mark alot. Each week, they post a thought to discuss while riding. Good, good..... an intellectual bent to the adventure. Mark shared some of these thoughts:
      1. Absence makes the heart go wander
      2. The trouble with speaking one's mind is that it limits conversation
and my favorite....
      3. The worst thing about growing old is having to listen to a lot of advise from one’s children
I asked Mark if they ACTUALLY discussed these topics. He said no, not really. They mostly talk about Medicare benefits. Oh..... And then he added, "And our route". You see, these gentlemen frequently get lost. The leader has a plastic holder - the kind you would use in the kitchen to protect a recipe book while cooking - mounted to his handlebars. He places a map of the route in this holder so he can consult it frequently. AND he has a GPS unit to assist. In fact, TWO of the members have GPS units to consult. And they STILL get lost. I asked if the GPS units were a requirement imposed by their wives. No, Mark replied. The wives required that each guy carry a cellphone. Oh, that seems logical. But, Mark added, the cellphones are never used. One of the riders bought a prepaid cell phone with $100 worth of minutes on it  good for one year. At the end of the year, any minutes not used were lost. He had $70 worth of minutes left that he lost. So the cell phones are rarely used to assist these gentlemen in getting back on track. But, Mark said, not to worry. These guys have ALL DAY to get back home. The joys of retirement. But Mark IS learning valuable life lessons from these guys who seem to be really enjoying the extra time they now have. And that's not the only valuable life lesson they are teaching Mark. When you are heading toward your senior years, you are approaching unchartered territory. It's a little like raising children - there is no book of directions. And as one elderly person told me - old age is not for wimps. So getting help from experienced elders who seem to be doing it right is always a good idea. And because I am a teacher at heart, I pass these pearls of wisdom on to you......

Rules of old age

1. Never stand when you can sit

2. Never sit when you can lie down

3. Never pass a bathroom without taking advantage of it

4. Be wary of farts

5. Never waste a hard-on, even if you are alone
What more can I say?

I Pinned Your Ear!

Celebrating the New Year in NoCal is a bit different than celebrating it in Maine. First of all, there is no snow here. This means that you can go outside in a sweater and enjoy the day. And at night, you can stand outside for a long time trying to get a great picture of the Blue Moon without a coat and not freezing to death in a VERY deep snow bank. So that is a nice change. But in NoCal, I spent New Year's Eve trying to become a Californian. I am about to confess my illegal actions, so any law enforcement people reading this...... well... be kind. I have lived in CA for about 2.5 months now and have not obtained a California driver's license and have not registered my car. I really like my SQR PEG plates and hear that vanity plates in CA are VERY expensive. So, I decided to FINALLY do the the deed on New Year's Eve. Why then, you might ask. Well, Natalie (stepdaughter) needed a CA driver's license so I said I would get mine too. We arrived at the DMV at 2:11pm. I know this because I was given a ticket with a number on it and the time stamped too. We knew we would have to wait, so we were prepared with books and iPods and other forms of entertainment..... like people watching. And we had studied so we were ready. Did you know that the legal limit for drinking is .08% and that you cannot talk on a cell phone while driving unless you have a hands free set? I DID! When my number was called, I took my stack of papers to the nice lady and she asked me some questions.... hair color (Good question!), eye color (easier) and weight......I figured since I was all ready breaking the law by NOT registering my car within the required time of arrival in the state AND I did not have a CA driver's license within 10 days of moving here, I could tell another small lie about the weight....Well, maybe not too small. After all, it HAS been a tough fall and we DID just celebrate the holidays. The Nice Lady never batted an eyelash and just finished my paperwork. I gave her money - of course - and she sent me to take the test. I got in ANOTHER line for the test, got my form (#5) and proceeded to complete it...... good thing I studied. The alcohol level was on there. I got BACK in line to have my test corrected. I could miss 6 and still pass. I thought that if I had missed 6, I didn't deserve a license. Now, I have to tell you.... Mark took the test in September (HE didn't break the law!) and he got 100%. I was hoping to do as well. AND Natalie took the test and only missed one. So the pressure was on. He scanned the form..... correct.....correct.....oops. Missed one. MISSED ONE? Let me see..... it was a question about a blind person with a white stick who is trying to cross the street in a cross walk. They stick their stick into the cross walk and then pull it back to the sidewalk. Do you stop to let them cross or continue? I chose to stop. I figured that if they were confused or had stick issues, better to be safe than sorry. But the CORRECT answer is to continue because they took their stick OUT of the cross walk. I stood there as the Nice Man finished grading my paper and envisioned hundreds of blind people with white sticks playing games with traffic - stick in..... stick out.....stick in....stick out HA HA! So when I took my stack of papers BACK to the Nice Lady and waited while she finished with the person she was helping, I was in a bit of a cynical mood. She took my papers and asked if I thought the test was hard. I said no not really. But I DID miss one. At least, I reassured her, I didn't pick the option of driving UP ONTO THE CURB and HITTING THE GUY WITH THE STICK. I'm not sure she thought it was as funny as I did. I still had to register my car which I cannot do until I have a smog test which means going to a gas station and having something stuck up my exhaust pipe and a measurement taken. It sounds uncomfortable. And anyway, it had now been 2.5 hours since we arrived to start this whole mess. It was time to go home. I will receive my license in the mail. Probably delivered by a blind mailman with a white stick.
You may have wondered why I titled this blog the way I did. Well, there is a short story behind it. I only hear in my left ear. And Mark sleeps on my right side. So when he whispers sweet nothings or anything else for that matter, I don't always hear what he is saying. And on New Year's Day, Mark whispered tenderly, "I pinned your ear". I looked at him and said, "YOU DID WHAT?" He smiled and said (now in my GOOD ear) "Happy New Year". So whether you are pinning an ear or just happy, I send warm wishes for short lines and lots of smiles for your year.

Traveling at Christmas

Remember when traveling by plane used to be fun, elegant, exciting? No? Well….. those of us who are REALLY old do. And now traveling during a holiday is even more of a challenge. Like this holiday when the Mid Atlantic area was socked with snow and all those travelers that couldn’t travel at the beginning of the week were FORCED to travel today when I am trying to get to the East coast for a nice family Christmas. First, it is the news story on the radio when it goes off at 3:45am about the “near misses” experienced by planes due to a lack of enough air traffic controllers. Then, it’s the 4:30am taxi who arrives at 4:10AM when I have barely dried off from the shower. And while waiting in a rather long line to check in – even at 4:32 (which is when we got to the airport for our 6:15am departure) – I notice a rather rambunctious boy of about 6 who is running up and down the escalator. That’s running up the down and down the up escalator. And then LYING at the bottom of the up escalator squealing like a little pig as the steps fold up under his back and disappear into …… wherever elevator steps go. And I’m trying to pay attention to the ticket agent who is asking about my bag and where’s my ID and all those important questions. But I’m THINKING this kid is going to get his shirt sucked into elevator step HELL and THEN  there will be blood and gore and I WILL MISS MY OVERBOOKED FLIGHT!! But luckily the wild and wiggly small person jumps up and runs back to Mom and Dad who look very tired. As they wait in line, the child is talking NON STOP! I whisper to Mark, “Aren’t you glad we aren’t traveling with HIM!” So we get through security and get totally redressed and repacked (and in front of ALL those other people frantically trying to get recombobulated). And we find our gate. AND, best of all, Mark (who IS a saint) even finds GOOD coffee. And all is well. We will get on board – No, we will NOT volunteer to take another flight. Do we look crazy? – and we will eat the little meal I have packed (no promises on food provided) and all will be well. So we are one of the first to squish into our little seats and settle in because we are almost at the very back. And then it happens….. remember that little boy?....who almost DIED on the escalator? YES! He is sitting RIGHT IN FRONT OF ME. Of course. And as soon as he sits down, he starts shouting, “When are we going to get going? When are we going to get going?” over and over. Now this plane is oversold and everyone has packed extra full bags. So nothing fits in the overhead and no one can get into their seats and it is taking a VERY long time to get us GOING. But finally, the doors shut and we begin to taxi….. Then he begins to shout, “WE ARE GOING TO DIE! WE ARE GOING TO DIE!” And I am thinking…. No….. not WE….. And his mother keeps leaning over and whispering to him to keep quiet. And he won’t, of course. And then she sees me watching (through the space between the seats) and says through  the crack, “I hope you like children….?” Good question. And THEN she asks him if he wants a chocolate brownie with chocolate icing…… HELP! Wait – there’s more. So we are still climbing with the seat belt sign on and it starts to get bumpy….. like we are driving a bus over boulders very fast. And my little friend HAS to pee. NO he can’t wait. HE HAS TO GO NOW! So up pops Mom AND Dad as my friend is, of course, by the window. And Dad runs him back to the bathroom while the flight attendant is saying (in a slightly pissed off way which they must practice in flight attendant training school) PLEASE remain seated while the captain has the fasten-seatbelt-sign on. And I agree as the Dad and son are bouncing from one side of the aisle to the other like an arcade game….. AND THEY WILL NOT GET THE HIGH SCORE. While they are gone, the flight attendant announces that there will be a bad children’s movie shown and headsets are $3 each and they don’t take cash. Now this is a movie FOR children that has BAD-AS-IN-STUPID content. And the Mom isn’t sure she has a credit card to get head sets. And I’m about to dig in my wallet or take up a collection to get her a set. And the boy and Dad return unscathed. The headsets are attached. The movie starts. And my little friend is…… quiet! And…… not wiggling! And his parents IMMEDIATELY fall asleep. Do you blame them?