Shake, rattle and roll.

We weren’t expecting this. Maybe an aftershock, but a whole new quake?

Andy and Felice were talking at the table. I was listening. And then suddenly, like Carole King, I felt the earth move.

It’s always subtle at first. And then you know what’s happening.

But they didn’t. I said it. EARTHQUAKE!

And they stopped their conversation and acknowledged what was going on and we made a few comments and then we waited, for it to end.

It’s eerie. You’re thinking about the end of the world, and what to do.

I’m wondering if the brick pillars surrounding us will fall. Where to run if we wanted to. I thought, if we jumped in the pool would we be safer there, like that guy who supposedly put on his scuba gear and survived a fire? I mean water slows down impact and…

Then the water began to move. It had been placid, now it was rocking from side to side, overflowing its barriers, and we were silent.

There’s nothing left to say. You just white knuckle it. Try to enjoy the ride unless it gets worse, like it did in ’94.

But in ’94, there were no trees surrounding my house, nothing to fall but the house itself. In Andy’s backyard there were trees and…

We waited. Alternately looking at each other and into space. No one had any control. It wasn’t a matter of bad judgment. We were powerless, Mother Nature was in control.

And if you’ve never experienced it…

The truth is, every place has got its downsides. Flooding, hurricanes, tornadoes.

But you expect the earth to remain solid and still beneath your feet.

This ain’t no movie, this ain’t no VR, this is real life.

And as the ground continues to roll, you wonder what is really going on. Are the plates shifting, is one slab sliding down and the other rising up?

But that’s a different kind of earthquake. Yes, there are different kinds. That’s a jolt. You’re thrown off guard. It ends quickly, except in ’94.

And in ’94, the ground was tilting, insulators were exploding on telephone poles. You thought it was the end of the world, at least until it stopped. You know, like when you’re on a thrill ride, or slipping in the mountains, you feel like this moment…could be your last.

And it did not stop. Usually these aftershocks are relatively minor affairs, you get to the point where you adjust to them, it rolls for a few seconds and then it’s done.

But last night, it kept going on.

And on one hand you’re enjoying it, on another you’re freaked out.

It doesn’t pay to get excited, to lose it, until you feel that monster shake, but that did not happen.

But it would not stop. How long would it go on? Was something worse in the offing?

The earth kept rolling and rolling and…you’ve lost control, and that’s a weird feeling.

Kinda like getting caught in an avalanche. The strangest thing is when the snow slides, you slide with it. Let me explain, you normally expect the snow to be stable and for you to plow down it, be in control. But when the surface starts to slide, it is moving, but you are not, you’re sliding with it. There’s nothing you can do but ride it out. It’s happened to me a couple of times. Most noticeably at Mammoth Mountain. I was skiing with the World Champion and his buddies, I didn’t know them, they were afraid to go first. So I did, to prove my mettle.

And that’s when it started to slide.

And when it stopped, shortly thereafter, when I was only six or ten feet further down this slope, just before it got very steep, the assembled multitude did not help me, they did not even cry out to me, they hightailed it out of there, very quickly, very softly, trying not to disturb the snow, leaving me behind.

So I sidestepped ever so slowly up the slope. To the trees. Knowing with one false move it could all be over, the snow would slide again.

It did not.

And they did not wait for me when I got out.

But last night we were all waiting together. For a minute. It just kept going and going and then…

Twitter said it was a 7.1. And then television revealed it was a whole new earthquake, not an aftershock. And the more we watched the talking heads, the more unstable and scared I got.

Meanwhile, the shaking screwed up their A/C. Was it the Nest or the HVAC unit on the roof? We couldn’t fix it, and the Nest hotline couldn’t either.

And then I’m wondering. What will it look like on the ride home. Will the lights be working? They weren’t in ’94.

Then again, the epicenter was in Northridge. We were much further away this time.

But next time?

It’s utterly fantastic. Riveting. If you were around back then, if “Deja Vu” was a staple in your bedroom, or dorm room, you’re going to be taken right back to that era and marvel, it isn’t nostalgia, but more like being woken up, to the lost dream, and the journey thereto, and the possibilities that still remain.

David Crosby. Didn’t both he and Nash pale in comparison to Stills?

Then again, Stills pales in comparison to Young. Who is famous for going his own way. It’s Neil who abandoned Stephen right before the “Long May You Run” tour, Stills soldiered on.

And then Neil reinvented himself, he told us it’s better to burn out than to fade away, and if you follow your dream and keep looking over that distant horizon and bow to no one, you can remain mysterious and continue to garner eyeballs. But does it make you happy? Is Bob Dylan happy on his endless tour reinventing his songs?

But Bob doesn’t know what else to do. Like Croz. He can only make music.

But the difference between Neil and the rest of CSN is that the latter made it on folk music, dreamy music, pleasant music, touch your soul music, and that never quite goes away. Sure, Stephen stretched into harder rocking and even Latin, but when you think of Crosby, Stills & Nash, your mind is set free as the mellifluous sound washes over you. Even the impassioned “Almost Cut My Hair” or “Long Time Gone,” they’re your inner angst, you can relate.

And you’ll be able to relate to David Crosby in this movie, because he’s human.

Now when you reach my age, you’re surprised by two things. The people who get sick and die, and those who retire and give up. Whereas there’s a small coterie who keep trying to push the envelope. David Crosby is one of those people. He’s so loquacious, you lament when he stops talking. He’s not exactly lovable, but he’s so real. In a world of duplicity. He was always this way. Which accounts for both his successes and his failures. Because people don’t like honesty. You tell lies to spare people’s feelings, to get along. David Crosby burns through people, hurts them, he doesn’t get along. All these years later, the body may be fading but the spirit shines through, brilliantly.

If you saw “Echo In The Canyon,” Crosby talks about being kicked out of the Byrds. Emphatically, he says he was a word that begins with an “a” and ends with an “e” and I’d spell it out here, but then this missive would never make it through the spam filters. Crosby never worried about the spam filters in life. He ran around naked, did drugs, he and his music were why we wanted to move to California. To partake.

And Crosby was oftentimes there first. The first musician to move to Laurel Canyon. And he doesn’t want credit as much as he wants to set the record straight. This movie is mostly about looking backward, but somehow, at 77, David Crosby is still looking forward.

He’s got to work, he’s got to go on tour, to pay the bills.

Sure, he blew a lot of money, but there’s this fantasy that rock stars are rich. But did you read that Gary Duncan, who played guitar in Quicksilver, who just died at 72, was a longshoreman after the music money dried up? We all have to pay the piper. Unless you’re lucky enough to be a billionaire, or to inherit the money and not blow it. So David Crosby is working, chances are you’ve got a bigger nest egg than he does. Then again, he’s not cutting corners, he’s got a nice spread with some horses.

So he wants to be a rock and roll star. And he makes it. Today he says he wished he’d realized how hard that was, and soaked it up.

And he did it to get laid. And he took advantage. But unlike too many musicians, he can hold a conversation, he’s not mute, he’s intelligent and can wrestle with concepts and you wish you could hang out with him on his couch, shooting the s___.

So he gets kicked out of the Byrds, which is done very well here, in animation, and he goes to Florida and discovers Joni Mitchell and shows her off in L.A. Because she wanted it. And she also wanted Croz. David says it was her choice.

And in the movie they roll up to that house. You know, OUR HOUSE, and Crosby tells all the tales, of singing with Stephen and Graham for the first time and…

You wished you were there. But you weren’t. That’s the difference between then and now. Then it happened behind closed doors, and usually stayed there, you did not have access.

And music was everything and you could buy the records and go to the show, those were your only options, other than the radio, but that wasn’t for true fans. When you see pictures of the comeback stadium tour, in ’74, your jaw will drop. The only people who can sell that many tickets today, by themselves, are maybe Ed Sheeran and Taylor Swift, for now. But this was already four years past their last hit. Does anybody care after four years today?

You feel the pulse. It’s like that Eagles doc. When they’re walking into the stadium in Colorado. What you feel is…THE POWER!

And it’s not about personality, but music. Which at that time everybody wrote by themselves, or with their group, it went straight from their heart directly into yours.

Now the film is told in a somewhat linear fashion. But there are excursions back and forth and the truth is you lived through this era, addicted to the sound, what were you doing when it all went down?

And there’s Kent State. And even the Dick Cavett show after Woodstock, which Crosby talks about too and…

What if you had a ringside seat. For life, for whatever was going down. If you were a rock star back then, you were international royalty, recognized everywhere by everybody and treated like a king.

But those were just the trappings.

Today it’s only about the trappings. And no one’s that big. And the rich hide behind gates, and vacation on private islands and…

This film will take you back when.

And just like those days, you won’t be able to avert your eyes, you won’t be thinking about anything else, you’ll be glued to the screen.

And movies today are something different. They’re based on comic books. As if real life is too scary. As if we all needed an escape.

But the truth is in the sixties and seventies not only was the music our escape, it was a journey unto itself, we sailed away from our parents as we were inspired to think for ourselves and…

David Crosby has never stopped thinking.

He admits his faults. He says when the adrenaline flows, he can’t help but express his anger, which gets him in trouble.

Then again, all the greats are warped. They’re trying to fill a hole inside that can never be topped-off, no matter how much money and success.

And the money is always cool. But it used to be about what’s inside.

You get inside David Crosby’s head in this movie.

And that’s one of the great journeys of all time.

Who are we? What is this life about? What should we be doing?

Too many drift through life somnambulant, without ever taking a risk, or putting themselves in the mix.

So when someone marches to the beat of their own drummer, we want to know how they did it. What motivated them, what they saw.

And David Crosby saw and did a lot. And when you watch him you know why. He’s different.

Are you?

I was sitting on the toilet.

Now you’ve got to know, it’s unlike any feeling you’ve ever had. Like I said back in ’94, you depend on the earth to be there. And when it’s not…

It used to happen all the time back in the seventies and eighties. Minor shakes. 2’s or 3’s. If it went on for a while, you went under a doorjamb. But now they say to do something different. I’ve forgotten what, there’s so much to keep up on.

And I don’t have an earthquake kit either. I guess in the Amazon age we believe we can get everything in a day.

But back in ’94 that wasn’t the case.

So I’m catching up on my phone. Isn’t that what you do first thing in the morning? I know, I know, it was closer to eleven than seven, but I slept in, I was up late reading “Fleishman Is In Trouble,” one of this summer’s hot books. I could write about it, but it’s not that great. Interesting, but not a home run. Ultimately, it’s about role reversal, where the wife is the go-getter, in this case an entertainment agent, and the husband takes care of the abode and the children. But he still works. He’s a liver doctor. But he only makes $258,000 a year, so he’s considered a loser in the modern world. Remember when your parents wanted you to be a doctor or lawyer? Those days are gone, you can’t make the big money, better to go into business. Then again, MBA programs are folding left and right. It seems that when it comes to business, you’re better off doing it for yourself. Business school teaches you how to be a manager, if you want to be an entrepreneur… But it is interesting that a quarter of a million bucks is now chump change. In Manhattan anyway. And the keeping up with the Joneses! It’s endless, there are always people with more money than you. And what bonds you is your fabulousness. But you know you’re not really that fabulous. Meanwhile, you leave your spouse for something better and…you find out it’s not better.

But I’m addicted to books. After finishing the Lori Gottlieb screed, I took a couple of days off, but I found myself lost, there was no center. Music used to be the center. It was driven by radio, MTV and print. You could comprehend the scene, it was clear what was worthy of attention… But today? I read all this hype about Julia Michaels, in “Entertainment Weekly” she looked like a god (goddess?) So I went on Spotify to listen to her new solo album, “Inner Monologue Part 2,” and I thought the opening track was close, not quite there, but interesting. And then… I checked the stream counts. At this point, only one of the eight cuts has been streamed on Spotify over a million times. In other words, despite all the hype, it’s a stiff. Proving that mainstream press just doesn’t matter when it comes down to big time stuff, the radio Top 40, the Spotify Top 50. And if I listened to the whole album and wrote about it…almost nobody would have heard it. Is it worth investing the time? You hear about an act, play a few tunes, understand why there’s attention, but unless a cut breaks through, you move on. Indie acts and the fans thereof hate this. But the truth is we’re looking for pointers, we want to be members of a club.

And a book is a club of its own. And it demands attention. You can’t graze it, you can’t give it five minutes to see what it’s about, you’ve got to delve in and go all the way. Although I do read some reviews, at least the last paragraph thereof, I don’t want to know what happened, isn’t that why you read a book to begin with? And I do look at the star rating on Amazon. And I do download the sample chapter and read it before I’m in. But if I make a decision, if I buy the book, I go down the rabbit hole. The experience is singular, definable. Hell, in today’s era, story is king. Which is one of the reasons TV is dominant and music is a second-class citizen. We’re looking for context, we’re looking to make sense of this world, we’re already overwhelmed with input, which is why you can dance to the tunes, go to the festival and shoot selfies as the band (DJ?) plays in the background, but you’re not gonna sit in front of the stereo looking at the album cover while the music plays. Actually, I’m thinking live business is gonna plateau and fall. The truth is, you go to be amongst the crowd, have an experience, the music is just the background live. Or, you’re going to hear someone perform their current hit. Or else you go to hear the classics, but they never even put out new music, they know it will come and go in a day, despite all the traditional hype.

So I’m catching up on my phone. Takes the better part of an hour. I’ve got to cruise the NYT, WaPo, NYMag, WSJ, LAT, and with my WSJ subscription I just got a free subscription to the “London Times,” which is otherwise behind a paywall, and not a soft one. And then there are the ski sites and Twitter and hitsdailydouble. I don’t bother with “Billboard,” too many bad writers filling up space. Actually, most of what’s written is close to unreadable, or boring. At least the ethos of the newspaper is straightforward reporting, but… Oh yes, I also read the “New Yorker” app, the one with the daily comment and…

I feel the toilet start to shake.

Now, toilets shake on a regular basis, not all are rooted to the ground so well. And oftentimes the seat is loose. But after a beat, it’s clear, we’re having an…

EARTHQUAKE!

That’s what I yelled out to Felice.

And I know what you do when it’s strong, you run out of your house, immediately, like I did in ’94, sans clothes in fact.

But that was at four thirty in the morning. Funny how most earthquakes never happen during business hours. Although I do remember waiting for a light on Pico one afternoon and my car started jumping around.

And this was the middle of the day, but it is a holiday.

And then… I’m monitoring the situation. And it does not stop shaking. It’s all you can think about, it’s like the end of the world. Who your parents are, where you went to school, how much money you have, they’re all irrelevant.

But it did not stop shaking. It was a real-life thrill ride.

And now I’m wondering if it’s ever gonna stop. Usually, it’s just brief jolts.

And I’m sitting there thinking about the science…giant plates are thrusting against each other. It’s not like it’s only my neighborhood, these are vast, catastrophic events.

And then after thirty seconds, enough time to wonder if it was ever gonna stop…it did.

Oh, what does it feel like?

First you feel some shaking. And with this one we went back and forward and back and forward and…we humans want to be in control, in this case I was not.

Now in the old days, when the ground stabilized, you’d turn on the TV. Assuming it worked.

Or the radio. Usually the TV first, because you could dial in to the local news network immediately.

And after a few beats, if the TV didn’t have a story, and it never did, the radio might say something.

And then in the internet era, you went to the LAT site.

But now I’ve realized, none of those outlets is truly prepared, there’s no one in the building ready to push a button. No, you’ve got to find a reporter, you’ve got to gather the facts…BUT I JUST EXPERIENCED THE FACTS!

So the only place you can go, for instant news, for an instant reaction is…

Twitter. That’s right, the site the oldsters abhor, but the digerati love. Instagram is a sideshow, Twitter is the high wire.

And people were already on it. Only a minute later. There was a link, which showed the epicenter, and it said it was a 6.6!

That’s really high. The numbers don’t go up arithmetically, but logarithmically. To make it simple, a 6 is ten times greater than a 5.

Now since it’s been downgraded to a 6.4. But they’re predicting tons of aftershocks, that’s what did me in back in ’94, the aftershocks.

But nothing fell off the shelves here.

But closer to the epicenter…

And not too long later, the news was all over the net.

This too was different from ’94. Back then, in the days of landlines, I called my mother all shaken up and she had no idea what was happening. But today, she called me.

Everything’s fine.

For now.

Fitting, don’t you think? Or would you rather have X, and “4th of July”?

Gerry and Dewey are great guys. Friendly and knowledgeable. You think of stars as being aloof, but not these two. Hear about their peripatetic lives as military brats and how they came together to make music and ended up shooting to the top of the charts, being picked up by David Geffen and selling more units than the supposed superstars.

I loved talking to them.

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