When we first moved to California in the summer of 1970 I found it hard to adjust to the different seasons.
I had always lived back east where there were 4 distinct seasons, but here in Southern California that all changes. We have: Drought, fire, monsoon, mudslide, and earthquake.. Fire is far the most frightening, as you can be taken unawares and lose everything in minutes. Last year a co-worker of mine's neighborhood was evacuated middle of gthe night with almost zero notice with reverse 911 calls. [This is a relatively new system where the emergency service calls *you* to tell you to get out if a bad fire breaks out.)
About 2 months afer coming to California there was a bad fire that broke out not too far from Chatsworth in the San Fernando Valley where we lived then. I missed it, the family being in Las Vegas for a bottler's convention my dad went to. I missed all the "drama" - but you could smell smoke for days. Then in following Feb. there was a huge 6.1 about 6 miles from where we lived. Hospital wing collapsed. Once again I "missed it" we being in Vegas again for another convention. We drove home that day, expecting to find some damage to our house. Nada. About a foot of water spashed from the pool, an overturned water cooler in the kitchen, and a top row of books from one of my bookcases which was tightly packed "jumped" onto the floor, in a neat row. That was it. I was secretly disappointed I missed the "big one" that all my new friends at school eperienced. My parents were somewhat amused that I had slept through a few fairly good aftershock for 4 and up that night. For a week or two afterwards, however, I was introduced to a new sport common in souther California called "quess the magnitude." What you do is wait until it's over and then say "4.5" and someone else says: "no way, 4.7 and no less." Then you wait 10 minutes for CalTech to get its act together and say "SEE I TOLD you...."
Truth be told I'm kinda bummed I "missed" the quake this morning! Those in the 4 point ranger are "Hey theres" Same sensation you feel just before the first drop on a rollercoaster. Giddy anticipation.
If you want to avoid all this, apparently the deal is: Live in Vegas. You can only lose your shirt.