My Tale of the Loma Prieta Quake

I was going through my collection of office newsletters in packing up my office, and found this story that I had contributed to a collection of employees' stories in our special earthquake issue:

I was on BART when the quake struck; the train I was on was pulling into the Embarcadero Station. In coming to a halt, the train jerked around more than usual, but it seemed to be only a particularly inept job of braking. I didn't know that there had been a quake until there waas an announcement over the train's PA system. Then the station lights went out and we were advised to leave by the emergency exit, wherever that might be. Those near me headed up the escalator (fortunately, there was some source of light; it was not pitch dark), and I followed them out.

Downtown was very strange. Power was out everywhere, and most buildings and stores were closed. I bought something from a store that was still operating - it had enough windows for ambient light, and a manually operated cash register. I saw shattered plate glass windows in many places, including all the windows of Magnin's on Union Square, and fallen bricks and cracked sidewalks. It began to seem like a major quake had occurred. People were lined up at pay phones checking in with loved ones, and were clustered around transistor and car radios to get the latest news.

I just wanted to get home to Noe Valley. I hoped to catch a taxi or bus, and started walking west on Sutter Street, and then on Geary. I walked as far as Fillmore Street and hoped to catch a trolley bus. After watching one bus for five minutes or so, the fact that it never moved finally convinced me that public transportation was not an option, so I headed south, towards my home. I tried to visit one friend, but, after wandering around her dark building and knocking on her door without result, I went on.

Several more blocks down the road, almost two hours after the quake, I finally found a friend at home. In fact, she even had her lights on for about five minutes. Turned out, a mutual friend of ours (who lives a block from me) was also there, and they were planning to take her home very soon. So, I just caught them, not only in an apartment that had lights, facilities, and comforting friends when I needed them, but they were just leaving to make a trip to my neighborhood.

More Pictures from Hawaii

Me in new aloha shirt.

The fern grotto, followed by sunset at Poipu Beach and Waimea Canyon.

Me on a canopy bridge, and me with Mark Scott at Allerton Gardens.

Some river, and a rainbow at the foot of some falls.

The top of said falls, followed by one of the myriad and ubiquitous feral roosters.

Me on our lanai.

Kilauea Lighthouse.

Back from Hawaii

and my body's time zone is somewhere between here and there. I'll try to append some of my pictures of my time in Kauai.

Here are some dolphins we saw while touring the Na Pali coast in a zodiac boat, followed by the view from the lanai of our condo, a shot of me ziplining, and a view from Limahuli Garden.

Transbay Shabbos

Jan (in Pleasanton) and I (in San Francisco) were on the phone when I mentioned buying challah rolls for Shabbat (which I'd never done before but suddenly got the idea to do when buying a cinnamon loaf at Acme Bakery today), and she suggested that we light the candles together - me in person and her over the speaker phone. We had done the same thing with Chanukah candles, so I immediately agreed. I had a pair of homemade soapstone candlesticks already loaded with Shabbat candles, and a box of matches nearby, so it was a matter of seconds before we were ready to roll. I lit the candles and sang the blessing, and Jan said "Amein." Then I sang the motzi and bit into my challah roll. Then she sipped wine and I water after we sang 'borei p'ri hagafen' together.

So I'm writing this by the light of the candles, which are sitting on my coffee table. I'd been wondering how to celebrate Shabbat while living alone. There was an article on point in one of the online Jewish rags, but it mostly suggested finding a family you can join. Since sitting around a dinner table singing Shabbat songs doesn't really appeal to me, I hadn't been engaging in any Sabbath observance whatsoever. But, with the help of my Jewish-born but unbelieving girlfriend, I might just get something started.

So Here It Is

The first work day of 2011, the day on which I would be heading back to the office if I hadn't just retired. I didn't roll over and go back to sleep, for long, because I needed to be up and moving by 9am, to be ready for visits from my contractor and the writer/director of the play I'm preparing for. I visited the laundry to trade dirty sheets for clean, came home, and had lunch.

There was sunshine earlier this morning, but it's mostly hidden now, and I'm not as strongly motivated to get outdoors. But I need to get a walk nearly every day, so I'd do well to plan a walk with somthing pleasant at the end of it, bundle up, and get out there. So that's what I'm going to do.

The Countdown Concludes; I'm Retired!

I've left the office for the last time (leaving behind, it suddenly occurs to me, a set of earbuds that were plugged into my computer). Went immediately to have a massage, followed by a manicure, picked up some food and came home. I swept the sidewalk, had some phone conversations, and am watching the news much like any other weeknight.

Don't know when I'll start to really feel retired. Maybe not until the first workday of 2011 when I wake up at 7:30 am, roll over, and go back to sleep.

Counting the Weeks, Days, and Hours

Two weeks, eight days, or 56 hours to go. I've started clearing out my office of stuff to go home and have started passing on books, papers, and files to the editor who is taking over my publications.

Yesterday I paged through my archives of "Best of the West," the office newsletter, which I had kept going back to about 1985. I mostly looked at the pictures of so many people I used to know who had been laid off or had gone on to better things, and the few who had retired and/or died, and the very few who were still with the company. Each of them I gave an issue with their picture in it.

Now I'm starting to say to myself, "The next to last Monday I'll be buying milk on the way in to work." Only two more times I have to fill out that dreadful online timesheet.

I've already written on the paper calendar I use to keep track of my billable hours - the 23d is a half-holiday, the 24th is a full holiday, and as of the 27th, I'm retired!!!!!!