One of the peculiarities of Southern California life is the Earthquake Wedge: I mean, the diminishing returns of everyone’s reaction to an earthquake.

This morning at 11:42, as you know unless you have been hiding under a rock for the past 12 hours, there was a magnitude 5.4 earthquake in Southern California. The epicenter was located in Chino Hills, which forms the third point of an equilateral triangle between Newport Beach and Los Angeles if you’re headed north-northeast from Orange County. I was in my office in the seventh story of a downtown Santa Ana office building, and: The fucker lasted for, like, forever. On the scary scale, I would rate that earthquake as highest in my 24 years of earthquake experience. Because it never seemed to end, is why, despite that the initial jolt was fairly brief. But then I made, received and completed two entire phone calls in the time the shaking lasted.

And the reaction by the general public followed the usual diminishing scale, like so: EARTHQUAKE!!!! AAAAHHHHH!!!!! 5.8!!!! MAJOR SHIT!!! Then: Earthquake. 5.4. Some people thought it was scary. And by now, a little over five hours later: earthquake. Small potatoes. Watch out for The Big One, you! Because this is just a wake-up call!

I do not think earthquakes are the least bit funny; in fact, they are one of the major armaments in my anti-California arsenal. But the local reaction, and its predictability, are growing somewhat funny. And here’s hoping that if the Big One hits, I will be safely snuggled down with my family watching it on TV from somewhere on the East Coast.