All Rileyed Up

There are 29 sites in the whole US of A that are considered Tsunami Ready. That’s an actual certification! In case you’re wondering if was this cooked up by some crackpot in the government after the Indonesian disaster, the answer is surprisingly no. It’s been going on for a while. My cities, Dana Point, CA, and San Clemente, CA, comprise 2 of the 29 sites.

I technically live in between them, but whatever, isn’t that always my state of being, in between? In between life experiences, in between personalities, in between children, in between states of sobriety.

It’s not something I’m in agony over, but tsunamis are an actual concern out here, and incidentally, an earthquake took place on May 3 that resulted in tsunamis all over the Pacific on May 3-4. When I first moved to Cali, I was terrified of earthquakes. No opinion really on tsunamis. Having lived here for 6 years now, earthquakes concern me about as much as tsunamis. I wonder if it’s perhaps because neither hold a candle to friggin hurricanes — a tree fell on the house I grew up, two years in a row. $50,000 damage the first time around. $150,000 the second. And amazingly, on the second tree felling, there were 5 people in the house at the time and no one was hurt (by the way, my parents moved this year. To a neighborhood with no trees).

So, anyways, I’m not terrified of tsunamis, but we do receive tsunami watches and warnings, and hey, if you live below the bluff, you’ll certainly want to leave if you hear about a big ol’ wave of water heading your way. Nowadays, I think there is also more fear of the dreaded tsunami because the second you hear the word, you immediately think of all the gnarly images from Indonesia. And that’s not a joke. Really, it’s not.

Among the things a Tsunami Ready city has are evacuation routes. What does one do when a tsunami warning is issued? Where do we go? How many fun noodles should I bring? Now, before you get your panties in a wad that I’m picking on the cities for caring so much, let me just say that I followed the directions of these signs, and I admit, they led me to higher ground quickly and efficiently.

That being said, I can’t help but point out a few amusements surrounding their placements.

Location #1:

See that, that big thing over thataways? You know, it’s big and blue? No? How about now:

That’s called an ocean. And sometimes, the ocean has what we call a tsunami. If you see one of these tsunamis, then you better
RUN FOR YOUR LIFE, MOTHERF*CKAHHHHHHHHHHHH!

Oh, and in case the sign wasn’t clear enough, you will want to go in THE OTHER DIRECTION:

Location #2:

Ah yes, this is a beautiful bike ride, is it not? So scenic? Mmmm, breathe in that coastal air. How’re those gears treating you on the elevation? Working those calf muscles? Oh yeah, if you’re on this bike route when a tsunami alarm bell starts ringing, it means you’re about to become SHIT OUT OF LUCK.

Location #3:

Don’t park here. Unless your car is waterproof. In which case, you don’t need to evacuate but can just park anywhere you want to, and sit. I don’t think police cars are waterproof, so you will NOT be getting any tickets during an evacuation.

Location #4:

As you see, we’re on a curvy narrow slope. I know you’re looking for an evacuation site, so here’s the sign for it:

Hey, what are you doing? I said NO STOPPING! Can’t you see the sign! DON’T stop! I don’t care what you’re trying to read! Oh, yeah, you think you can stop and get away with it? Don’t bet on it buster, we’ve got the neighborhood watch in order to keep your ass in line. Boo ya!

Location #5:

In case of a tsunami, GO HERE.

I expect “Beach Properties” will be liquidating their inventory about now. Just don’t count on being approved for flood insurance.

Location #6:

Okay, based on the sign, I think I need to go left. Here’s the left:

What the hell is this? My friend said it’s a boys & girls home, or something like it. What it looks like is a big white building with no sign, no name, and certainly not enough parking spots to accommodate evacuees. In fact, it looks like the kind of apartment complex you don’t want to be in. The kind you stopped by one time in college when you were jonesing for a bag and your friend of a friend took a class with a guy who lived here and you stopped in at 2 in the morning… I’m sorry, I forgot what I was talking about.

Okay, so enough tsunami bashing. I’m not gonna lie, I’m proud to live in an area that takes the time to be this proactive. It’s the type of precaution I wish my beloved former home of New Orleans had participated in. Again, not a joke.

Time to move on to an even more serious, it-really-isn’t-funny-once-you-start-thinking-about-it-scenario, and that is what happens when the San Onofre Power Plant has an emergency. How does a city become ‘nuclear power plant disaster certified’? Off to do more research. <a href=”