So, I heard there was an earthquake that was felt throughout Sussex County, Delaware. Really? And I missed it. How you might ask? I was driving home from the college when the quake happened, and apparently, a car in motion does not actually notice the earth in motion.
When I got home, my husband Matt insisted that an earthquake had shaken our deck and caused the siding to squeak. Of course, I was doubtful. I suggested it might have been some dynamite being used to create yet another new housing development. Or maybe it was the gas line that was being placed down Route 9. Or...well, maybe it was a local land shift. But then my aunt told me about her mobile shaking, and my cousin expressed disappointment that Delaware could get earthquakes, and the television made it sound like the "Second Coming." Yep, it was an earthquake. And I missed it.
Not that I ever want to be placed in danger, but it feels like missing something special - like arriving at a mall just after the famous actor left, or buying the lottery ticket right after the guy who hits the million. Of course, although I didn't experience it first hand, I can always turn on the television and get the local connection. [When I lived in Maryland, we had "The Baltimore Connection," that prime news approach that always finds a way to match the latest hero or villain or disaster with the local town. I could understand grabbing the coat-tails of a hero or great event, but the Baltimore news channels even reveled in finding connections to despicable criminals and horrifying events as though such a connection was worthy as bragging rights.]
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