Paging my mother…..
Dear ol’ Mom.
Ten years ago I moved to the Bay Area. In fact, almost ten years exactly. It was Memorial Day 1997.
When I told my mom I was moving, like most good moms, she was *none* too pleased that her youngest was heading to far flung places. And like the good New Mexican woman that she is, she spat the word “California” as if it tasted bad.
Mom is a natural born worrier. Her dad was a worrier. She’s a worrier. I *might* have to own up to a bit of the worry myself, but not to that level. I’m a rank amateur in the field of worry compared to her.
So of course, two things just *killed* her about me moving to the San Francisco Bay Area.
Bridges and Earthquakes.
“Why would you move somewhere so dangerous,” she asked, tartly and with conviction.
I reminded her that New Mexico has tornados.
She was not swayed.
“Look what happened when that bridge collapsed!” she reasoned.
I reminded her that New Mexico has flooding.
She was not amused.
“I can’t understand why anyone would want to live where there are so many people!” she shouted.
I reminded here that where she lived in Belen, they had Bosque fires every year.
She glared at me.
Should I send her this link to this blog in the ABQjournal entitled “The Big One”?
Seems a 3.3 earthquake hit Soccoro.
As a now veteran of the Bay Area, I can say that a 3.3 is a “teacup rattler” and not much more.
“A Socorro city councilor told 770 KKOB Radio this morning that it was enough to knock him out of bed”
I highly doubt that. I was in a 3.5. It rattled the front door in its frame like someone was struggling to get in, and gave me a good jiggle, but my heinie stayed firmly planted on the couch. The good councilor must sleep on the edge of the bed…that’s all I’ve got to say.
So shall I remind Moms that they have earthquakes in New Mexico, too? Or is it still too close to Mom’s Day to “go there”???