SPIKE//

Earthquakes in New York and Colorado this week, the two places I’ve called home for most of the last decade. I’ve lived in California for about six months now, but I still haven’t felt an earthquake here. All quiet on the Hayward Fault.

From back east on Long Island, my dad called me, giddy. He described the shaking and the dizziness. I asked him if he knew the signs of a stroke. But when we checked the USGS he was right, there had been a decent sized quake on the east coast. He gave a little cheer for having lived through his first.

Here in California I was left wanting just a little one for myself. A five-pointer. Large enough to feel, but small enough to survive handily. I figure, once I live through one, I won’t be so scared of the looming prospect. As it is, I get nervous under highway overpasses. What if the highway collapses? It’s done that before.

Even scarier is going under the Bay. The few minutes when BART goes through the tunnel are the worst of any train ride ever (and I’ve suffered the A past 125th, the rush hour 6, and the LIRR at 3 in the morning, so I know all about shitty train rides). My fear is that the BART tunnel will crack and cave, that water will rush in and I’ll drown, helplessly trapped under the Bay. This is probably a realistic scenario; I mean, it could happen right? 

To assuage my fears, I invented a clever mechanism that would airlift the entire BART tunnel to safety in the event of an earthquake. The tunnel, which runs 135 feet under the Bay, would need to be retrofitted with enormous inflatable sacs that would fill with gas, given high enough seismic activity. This would be costly, but I believe also worthwhile since I can see no alternative failsafe for an underwater subway tunnel. It would work this way: during an earthquake, the tunnel would seal off at both ends with the kinds of pressurized doors you see on bank vaults, making the tunnel a closed system. Seismometers would trip a switch igniting a Rube-Goldberg set of chemical reactions ultimately inflating enormous sacs with nitrous oxide gas. Extra gas would be pumped into the train car to keep passengers relaxed. The sacs, filled with gas much less dense than water, would float the tunnel, BART cars and all, to safety. Bobbing in the waves, we would be rescued by a charming tugboat crew who would then charter for us a champagne sunset cruise.