I didn't watch any of the late night TV shows after this so-called earthquake, but those who make fun of things professionally may have already covered some of the ground I am about to traverse. Surely, someone must have commented on how puny a 5.9 so-called earthquake is compared with the real earthquakes that we enjoy in Southern California. We would not call 5.9 an earthquake. We would call it a pipquake.

Here are some of the thoughts that sprang into my mind, from who knows where, when I started reading the alarming reports of buildings swaying on the East Coast.

"Five-point-nine? You call that an earthquake? My neighbor's stereo rocks the house more than a 5.9." Or, how about this: "A five-point-nine and you ran for shelter? We won't even get out of bed for less than a 7.0." Or how about, "So what if the buildings were swaying? Unless the tip of a skyscraper is touching the ground, there's nothing to worry about."

Of course, it's easy for us to be blase about bent-over buildings in Southern California. We build our skyscrapers out of licorice out here.

But seriously, folks, earthquakes are a serious matter.

This East Coast fretting over an earthquake that obviously got lost on its way to San Andreas prompted me to think about how people in Southern California react to weather. Having grown up in Pennsylvania before moving to Southern California and becoming inured to the dangers of earthquakes, I am well-acquainted with all sorts of weather. People who were born in Southern California and have never left the place are not. They live in fear of raindrops.

And so, when a so-called storm is about to hit Southern California, drenching us with hundredths of an inch of mist, all of the TV news crews rush to model their latest city rain slickers and gush about the coming deluge. Tune in to any local TV station and you will see reporters, looking into the camera under cloudless blue skies, saying things like, "We're told that the rain could arrive at any moment," or "We're told that they had rain here last year.” The TV stations have catchy names for their team coverage of the impending downpour, like "Storm Watch" and "Storm Track" and so forth.

My Los Angeles-born girlfriend can't understand why I am so tickled by Storm Watch and Storm Track and all of the others. I have tried to explain that it would make as much sense to me to have reporters staring into the camera right before dawn and saying, "We're told that the sun could rise at any moment. In fact, people who live here say that the sun rose over that very horizon behind me yesterday morning."

Thus far, nobody has been able to predict earthquakes reliably, but I can't wait until they do. I am dying to watch "Quake Watch" and "Quake Track" as we wait for the impending temblor.