#prieta

[deoload42]

[r0s3bl00d]

And as the sun went down

We ended up on the ground

[emotionalhardcore]

this insane ass lineup

[thedaily-beer]

Beachwood Loma Prieta Pilsner (Picked up at Windmill Farms). A 3 of 4. Very much a traditional pilsner (in the best way). Light bready notes in the nose and some floral hop notes, and a crisp, clean body. Quite tasty and exactly what it should be for the style.

[graveyardrabbit]

[ballparksaroundtheworld]

Estadio de beisbol "Luis Encinas", Agua Prieta, Sonora, México

[remembertheplunge]

1989 Loma Prieta earthquake

October 16, 1992

3 years ago tonight , October 16, 1989, we stood at the silent, invisible threshold of violent change. I had just purchased the Crow table and the large lavender vase from the Crow House estate sale.. I lived in the  Keller Street house and Dad was siting at the table working on class work. It was a Monday evening. That Saturday Night, October 14 had been the Dive Club abalone feed. We’d all come over to my house after, Mom and Dad  including Gene Trimble. The Crow table at that time was out in the garage. Chase had helped me bring it over in his little truck. It was a different world. I had no thoughts of moving from Keller Street. I was still in my first year of home ownership. I had yet to do a Murder trial. I drove the 1984 Dodge Charger. I had just paid it off I think. I was in Hand To Hand. I had been since August. I don’t know if I was matched. I earned substantially less than I do now. My house payment was substantially less than it is now. I had never been tested for AIDS. The magic of San Fransisco journeys was in full swing. I was open for wonder there. I journaled nightly as I do now. I enjoyed traveling journal integration as I do now. Alan Watts lectures on KPFA Sunday’s was probably my religious hour. Dad did not have cancer.

And then the earthquake hit. 

And all the shaking cried out for a peace, a resting, a calm to reorganize. So now I sit in this new world. I’m less confused. I’m less complex. I’m calmer. Tonight I am not terribly depressed as I have been traditionally work week Friday nights. I am here with you now.

Earthquakes can be friends. They can shake you into awakening.

End of this part of the entry.

Notes: 8/22/2024

The Loma Prieta quake hit at 5:04pm Tuesday October 17, 1989. The epicenter was near Santa Cruz, California.  Although I was in Modesto, California about 120 mile East of the epicenter, the floor began to roll and things were falling off the shelves in the grocery store that I was in when it hit.

Parts of downtown Santa Cruz were destroyed. An East Bay upper level of a freeway pancaked into the lower level. There was extensive damage in some areas of San Fransisco. Part of the upper level of the bay bridge collapsed into the lower level at rush hour on a Tuesday. 

The Crow house was an elegant old Victorian that sat across from the jail in downtown Modesto. I bought the antique round table and accompanying chairs just before the earth quake hit, along with the lavender large vase. I was afraid that the quake might have caused the vase to fall and shatter back at home. But, on arrival home, it was OK.

By 1992, I had done my first Murder Trial. My Dad must have tested positive for prostate cancer by then. Alan Watts was a philosopher  who died in 1973. His lectures used to play at 4:30pm Sundays on KPFA radio. They contained deep truths for me. I still love to listen to Alan Watts lectures on You tube. I still journal every night. And I still love the wonder of my San Francisco journal journeys.

Hand to Hand was an organization I volunteered for in which we would match up with people with AIDS and help them through their illness and death. The Modesto version of Hand to Hand was called the Stanislaus County Aids Project.

I sold my house on Keller Street and bought another house on Woodcrest Way in Modesto in 1991.

[budutinahrobnositmandarinky]

i found this emojiridden copypasta that i made in 2020 in the depths of my notes app and i think the world (like 3 people on tumblr dot com) should see it.

twin size mattress

This 👉 is for the lions 🦁 living 🌱in the wiry⛓️ broke 🚫💸 down ⬇️ frames 🔳 of my friends 🤼 bodies 🏋️‍♀️

When ⌚the flood water 🌊 comes🏃‍♀️, it ain't💁‍♂️ gonna be clear 💎

It's gonna look 👀 like mud 🤢

But I 🙋will help 💪 you swim 🏊

I 🙋‍♂️ will help✌️ you swim 🧜

I'm gonna help 🙏 you swim 🤽

This 👈 is for the snakes 🐍 and the people👫 they bite 🦷

For the friends 🤸 I've made; for the sleepless 🚫🛌 nights 🌌

For the warning ⚠️ signs I've completely ignored 🤦‍♀️

There's an amount to take 🎁, reasons 🤔 to take more 🛒

It's no big 🧿 surprise 🥳 you turned out 📝this way 🛣️

When they close 🗝️ their eyes 👁️ and prayed🛐 you would change ♻️

And they cut your hair 💇‍♂️, and sent 📨 you away ↪️

You stopped ✋ by my house 🏠 the night 🌌 you escaped 🏃‍♀️

With tears💧in my eyes 👁️, I begged 🙏 you to stay🕺

You said 🗣️, hey man 👨‍🌾, I love 😍 you 💆‍♀️ but no 🙅‍♂️ fucking way 🛤️

I'm sure 👩‍🏫 that we could find 🕵️ something🙌 for you 🧘‍♀️ to do on stage 🎶

Maybe shake 🗯️ a tambourine 🥁 or when I sing 👨‍🎤, you sing harmonies 👩‍🎤

This 👐 is for the lake 💦 that me and my friends 👬 swim 🏊‍♀️ in

Naked 🧖‍♂️ and dumb 🤪 on a drunken🍹 night 🌃

And it should've 🙈 felt good 👍

But I 🙋‍♀️can hear 👂the Jaws 🦈theme song 🎵 on repeat 🔁 in the back 🔙 of my mind💆‍♂️

Make sure you kiss 💋 your knuckles ✊ before ⏪ you punch 👊 me in the face 👩

There are lessons 👨‍🏫 to be learned 🧐, consequences 😬 for all the stupid 🤪 things I say 🗣️

And it is no 🚫 big surprise 🎉 you turned out this way 🛣️

The spark ✨ in her eyes 👁️

The look 👀 on your face 👩

I will not 🚫 be late ⚰️

I'm sure 🤔 that we could find 🕵️‍♂️ something for you 🙇‍♀️ to do on stage 🎤

Maybe shake 🌀 a tambourine 🥁 or when I👩‍🎤 sing, you sing 👨‍🎤 harmonies

I wanna contribute 🤲 to the chaos 🦠

I don't wanna 🙅‍♂️ watch 👀 and then complain 😾

'Cause I am through ☠️ finding blame 🙊

That is the decision 🤔 that I have made 🚽

She hopes 🙆 I'm cursed 🧙‍♂️ forever ♾️ to

Sleep 💤 on a twin-sized 👯 mattress 🛏️

In somebody's attic ⬆️ or basement ⬇️ my whole life 👴

Never graduating 🎓 up in size to add ➕ another ⏭️

And my nightmares 👹 will have nightmares👺 every night 🌃

Oh, every night 🌉, every night 🌌

[tranquilitybasehotelcasino]

you are never getting me to live in california and i can trace this iron clad certainty back to the year of our lord 2015 when i saw a video of like a five-decker freeway outside of san francisco collapsing during an earthquake and the image of that lodged itself in my mind forever

[haveyoubeentothiscity]

Population: 91,029

[fatchance]

Agua Prieta barberías, Sonora, Mexico.

[anduinwrynngaysex]

the real reason that wrathion and anduin could never forgive each other is that anduin is an emo purist who only listens to american football, car seat headrest, home is where and rites of spring, and wrathion is a myspace emo who only listens to metalcore and pop punk

[olivesjaw]

So try to hide In plain sight Turn and start running

[brainrockets]

I honestly think my parents would have divorced sooner if the Loma Prieta Earthquake hadn't happened.

[lenbryant]

It's the anniversary of the big Loma Prieta earthquake up in San Francisco that happened during the World Series game between the Oakland A's and the San Francisco Giants. How's that for dramatic timing? This YouTuber happened to live where there was power then and had recorded the television feed coming out of the city then.

[hartshorn-and-isinglass]

USGS out here reminding us that we're getting old. Thanks.

I'm pretty sure Sibling has already filled this out for our location at the time so I don't have to.

(click through for Old Man Rambles About Historic Event)

The first thing I distinctly remember about that afternoon, being an elementary schooler at the time, was that I had *just* gotten all my homework done and I was sitting on the floor of the family room about to pull out some toys when I felt the floor shake. I assumed Sibling was jumping on the couch and turned around to yell at them to knock it off--only to find them standing stock still, staring at me with a look of growing apprehension on their face.

We were already familiar with earthquakes by that point and there's that moment in the first second or two where you kinda try to assess whether it's gonna peter out or whether you really have to go crawl under the table after all--and much to our horror, the shaking wasn't going away, it was actually getting worse. Much worse.

We both knew we could fit under the thick wood coffee table and that's where we were headed but our mom was panicking and screaming for us to come upstairs to her in the kitchen. I was like, well, maybe she thinks we'll all fit better under the kitchen table, fine. But the up-and down shaking was so violent it was actually hard to climb the stairs. And then, instead of directing us under the kitchen table my mom had us run out the front door and stand in the yard. At this point I'm no longer terrified, I'm actually getting annoyed at her for putting us through unnecessary risk--first, by making us run past all the windows in the kitchen, which could have exposed us to shattered glass if roof tiles from the neighbors' house had slid off and crashed into the window panes; next, by making us run out the front door, where we could have been hit by falling tiles from our own roof. And yes, I did lecture her about that once the shaking stopped. There's a reason I wasn't her favorite.

I remember several aftershocks as the neighbors gathered in their front yards and people brought out their radios to listen to the news. I could see new cracks in the plaster of our neighbor's house, but fortunately no one's roof tiles came off in our vicinity. We were very luckily situated at the base of several hills, so there was bedrock beneath our neighborhood; most of the houses were standing and structurally sound. The radio was letting us all know it was a lot worse for large parts of the city to the north.

It is probably fortunate that the earthquake struck only just as people were getting off work, before the freeways and bridges could fill up with traffic (people were also off the roads because they were either attending or watching the Battle of The Bay, and that has been credited with saving lives). But it meant that the folks who were planning on commuting home via public transit that day were SOL. My dad's office was right nearby the Civic Center Muni station and he usually took the LRV through the tunnel to get home, so we weren't sure where along his route he might have been caught in the quake. This led to a tense couple of hours of wondering what had happened to him. My mom eventually left us kids with the neighbors and drove out to find him. I don't remember if he had managed to find a working pay phone to call my mom at some point or not; he might have. Either way, he had still been up on the surface when the quake struck and was walking in the direction of home, following more or less the route he would have taken had he been in a car, so finding him wouldn't have been impossible, though traffic was a nightmare in the aftermath.

I'm a bit fuzzy on exactly what happened with that search, because my memory jumps from swapping stories about the quake with the neighbors' kid in their living room to me running to hug my dad by our own front yard gate. It was sunset when he came back, and once he was there my parents went through the house to assess the damage. Our tallest shelves had tipped over, some things had broken, but as far as disaster level quakes go we were doing just fine. We had bologna sandwiches for dinner by the light of our camp lanterns in the family room, huddled around the radio listening to the reports on the collapsed freeways, the Bridge, and the Marina. I remember that the soundscape of the city was distinctly different that evening. It was... quieter, I guess, since we were removed from where the bulk of the emergency service vehicles were concentrated. Quiet in an eerie way. And it was darker, since the power was out for pretty much everyone until well into the night. I think I remember getting ready for bed by lantern and then having the power come back on either right as I was getting to bed or sometime after I was in bed and trying to fall asleep.

The next day at school we all got official class time to swap stories about the quake. Some of the kids had actually been at the Battle of The Bay and I cannot imagine how surreal that must have been. Also, the big drama of the week was that one of our classmate's birthday parties was coming up in a week and a half and that was supposed to be a sleepover and a bunch of the parents were Not Okay with letting their kids go for a night so soon off the heels of a huge disaster. Elementary schooler priorities, you know. I don't even remember what the fuck we did for my birthday right after the quake. I think we must have had the party planned for that weekend and not the one before. It would have been enough time for my parents to clean up and for some bakeries to be back up and running, so I think it probably happened. Memory is weird.

My dad bought us all shitty T-shirts that said "I SURVIVED THE GREAT QUAKE OF '89" in neon orange letters from some street vendor like two weeks after this all happened and I think I only *just* tossed that a few months ago when I was trying to make room for my new round of questionable sartorial choices. Sorry fam, no ugly vintage 80s T-shirt pics for you. I think that one actually said "7.1" on it since at the time that was the magnitude they had reported on the news--it has since been revised to a 6.9, which in log scale is kind of a big difference but do you really even notice once the shaking is that hard? Probably not.