For me, it was almost a bit of nostalgia. I spent most of my life in the Los Angeles area, and I have been in countless "hey, was that an earthquake or are you bobbing your leg?" tremors like this one, as well as several of the "run to the doorway and hang on for dear life" variety.

So I was pretty sure what had just happened. Still, sitting in my house in Bergen County in New Jersey, I had to wonder. I listened and looked out the window for the truck that might have rumbled by, but there was no truck. I wondered if my 11-year-old was dancing or running up the stairs, and then I remembered that he was in school.

