Dutifully prepared for The Big One in Laguna Beach, California

I flipped open the digital equivalent of the San Diego Union-Tribune this afternoon and lo!, a Copley News Service story said that a "major earthquake along the San Andreas fault could bring Hurricane Katrina-scale devastation and disruption to Southern California."

Now I'm no stranger to quakes, having felt a half dozen of them. Usually they're very small, and amount to 15-20 seconds of a strange jiggling. I usually have to look around to see if anybody else feels it to be sure it's actually happening. One time some shelves fell down in my bedroom, but that's more a reflection of my carpentry skills than any "Katrina-scale devastation" caused by an earthquake.

In the news story today my leaders are encouraging me to prepare for the "inevitability of a power quake," which I've never felt before. So that's what I'm going to do -- prepare. Since it will be "Katrina-scale devastation," I shall use that disaster as my example.

1. Already planning on a pardon from Celine Dion. When The Big One hits I'll put the trusty 10mm in my waistband and venture out into the wrecked labyrinth of Laguna Beach in search of big screen TVs and sports apparel. This is the land of strip malls, and I plan to break into all of them.

If Celine doesn't pardon me after the fact, because I just want to "touch those things," maybe a white version of Jesse Jackson will give a speech on my behalf from a hotel balcony off the 5.

Jesse can say, "Laguna Beach looks like the hull of a slave ship!" As a whitey (someone who was granted riches and respect at birth), that might not work for me. Well, actually, my ancesters came from an area once controlled by Rome, so my people were probably slaves at one time or another. Damn them all to hell, those white (Roman) devils!

2. I'll sit on my roof cursing the gubment for not having 400,000 peanut butter and jelly sandwiches sitting in idling helicopters 48 hours before the quake strikes.

3. As I mug people in the ruined streets and take pot shots at emergency workers, I will smile at the thought of a free FEMA trailer and drinking away a $2,000 credit card courtesy of my fellow Americans.

4. Simply because I'm not a wealthy capitalist, liberal elites won't mind when I revert to total barbarism. I'm not sure how to survive on looted Nikes and wrist watches, but Huffington Post writers will figure it out for me. With so many liberal apologists, I will feel like God himself.

5. It may occur to me that when the mayor comes on all TV and radio stations 14 hours before the quake and says "Life in Laguna Beach as we know it is coming to an end," and that I must leave, I should spend $14 to get on a Greyhound. Naw. Why go? I'm poor, and therefore not expected to make reasonable decisions.

6. My crank-up radio will keep me informed, minute-by-minute, of how Bush caused the earthquake. Al Gore, Miles O'Brien, and European heads of state will say the quake happened because Bush refused to sign the Kyoto protocol. It's global warming, of course. Bush is quite a bastard for putting me in this tough situation, big screen TVs notwithstanding. I mean, we didn't know we chose to live right next to the San Andreas fault line.

All in all it's going to be a great quake. Wish you could be here with me.