If it's not one thing, it's another

I'm enjoying how smartly the water swirls down the drain of my kitchen sink, newly reopened thanks to landlord George's relentless assault on the basement pipes. In my previous post I described some of the unclogging process. What stuck with me, though, was the off-hand question I posed to George while I was sitting at my kitchen table, sipping my cold tea and watching him laboring under the sink.

"How well do you think this place would do in an earthquake?"

I live in a 1940s wooden, flat-topped triplex. Like an old lady removing her girdle after a hard decade, this place has settled. Despite a new coat of taupe paint and snazzy blue doors, the place is definitely showing signs of wear. The aluminum-framed windows, added in an upgrade, are etched with condensation that has been trapped between the panes. The windows that raise vertically are off their tracks. They have two states: open or closed. I open them once in the Spring and close them once in the Fall. During the winter, I tape clear plastic to the inside of the window frames to help keep out the east wind.

George's response was not exactly reassuring. "About as well as any other building in the neighborhood," he said. Apparently, it's not a question of if, but when. Portland sits on some recently discovered fault lines, and the granddaddy of local fault lines, the Cascadia Subduction Zone, lies 84 km off shore. According to geologists, we have a 10-14% chance of a large earthquake in the next 50 years. Portland's infrastructure will be critically damaged, destroying our local economy. What they mean is, all the bridges spanning the Willamette River will crumble. The on-ramps to bridges and freeways will crack apart and fall down. All the brick schools and public buildings built before about 1990 will shake to pieces. The city will basically be destroyed. I was in Los Angeles in the 1994 Northridge earthquake. This will be worse.

But this hill I live on probably won't move. This building sits on the shoulder of an extinct volcano. No worries. I will probably survive if I'm at home. Then again, the foundation is marbled with cracks, some serious. If there were an earthquake, it's possible my unit would end up in the basement. Maybe I should get a tent and a propane stove in case I have to camp out in the park. But what about my cat? Argh. This is starting to feel rather dreary.

It's possible I won't be at home when the earthquake hits. I could be at my mother's. I could be at work. I could be driving across the Fremont Bridge. (Game over.) I could be visiting my brother who lives in Seaside. We will have 15 minutes to evacuate to higher ground.

There's no point in worrying, is there? Experts can't predict when it will happen. But there is a point in trying to be prepared. Am I prepared? Not hardly. I have some tuna fish, some cat food, and a package of toilet paper. It will be a long time before someone comes to rescue me. I guess I'll be getting to know my neighbors.