ABOUT THAT TSUNAMI

There was an earthquake in far northern California this morning, while I was twiddling my toes. Then, shortly after that, I received a tsunami warning on my cell-phone. Which seeing as I never take my cell-phone anywhere would have left me utterly ignorant of the danger, had I already gone uphill to do my laundry.

Uphill.

My apartment is two miles from the Bay, and over two hundred feet above sea level. If any water even laps my toes, the rest of you are probably done for.

According to the emergency warning, ALL of San Francisco was at risk. Every square inch red. So, just in case, I started looking for my flip flops. Might need 'em. It's a good thing I wasn't planning to go surfing today anyhow. Could have been risky. In point of fact I never surf, not being an Australian. Also, I actually didn't bother looking for my flip-flops, and generally ignored the warning. As I said, well above sea level and safely inland.

I was considerably more disconcerted by the fact that it was overcast and gloomy outside.
A cloud in my ointment, so to speak. And oh, the humanity!

Trust me, I have a brilliant plan to escape the tsunami that wiped out the dinosaurs, when that time comes. A spaceship filled with cans of Spam, plus jars of sambal, and extra tins of pipe tobacco, as well as a crate of Kentucky bourbon. Hidden in that abandoned missile silo over on Pacific Avenue. Me and my loyal raccoon crew will be quite safe. They can't mutiny, as I am the only one with opposable thumbs, and both a map and a compass.


Tsunami Warning
Source: National Tsunami Warning Center


Seriously, guys. Consult a topographic map of the city. Much of it is so far above sea level that even with climate change nothing will happen. Nearly every junkfood franchise and metered parking space here is well above the water. We will flourish.

You also told me about wild fire danger a few weeks ago.
Erm. What? Again, consult your darn map.
No you can't have mine.

I'll sic my raccoons on you.



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