Well, yeah. We have it, too. The million-plus of us who have been living it every day since 9-29-05 in a way much more real than the rest of the world. We're tired of it all and wish every day that it would all just go away and things would be back the way they were before It happened.
I've been sitting on my hands and biting my tongue while I churn and burn inside looking at the world I'm living in. Not just New Orleans, but the whole of it. That's tough enough, but then I hear all about how much of the nation has Katrina Fatigue and worse, not just fatigue, but utter contempt for us and our needs and our sucking at the teat of the rest of the country's poor, innocent tax-payers who were far too smart to live in this risky city below sea level. Everyone's just so sick of hearing about it. Why don't we just stop whining, get off our asses, get to work and get on with out lives?
I don't know who all my readers are, but I do know those of you who have been around and who comment, and, of course, I know the people who are reading that I knew before blogs existed (because they used to live here, too.) With few exceptions, you all live elsewhere. And I know you don't fall into the insensitive category of folks who gleefully vilify us and this city at every opportunity. But it's been rather quiet over here, even when I've asked for your input. I do know that you all have been busy (many of you are not posting on your own blogs, either) but part of me (the overly sensitive and insecure part) does wonder if you have a touch of the fatigue, yourselves.
I have really restrained myself on this blog in the last few months. Heavily. One reason is that I think that the things on my mind are only interesting to my fellow New Orleanians. And they have been doing such an extraordinary job at shining the light on what's been going on here and at expressing the things that pound around in my head that I've felt completely fulfilled by reading what they're writing rather than writing anything myself. But the more time passes, the more I'm aware of this unfulfilled desire I have to know that those of you who have shown so much concern for me and my kids in the past do care still. Not so much about me, but about us- this incredibly unique and wonderful city and its people. Most of you don't even know what's at stake here. And it's so hard to convey without the experience of this place. Unfortunately, if you've never been here, you'll never know the city that it was -and will never be again. But there is still life here and with it, the chance that a lot of what was will return and, in typical New Orleans fashion, we'll take the horrors of Katrina and weave it into the fabric of our culture in a most fascinating way.
But right now, we are living an unimaginable life. And to borrow from Rod Serling, this other dimension that we've entered is not just of sight and sound (and smell) but of mind. And indeed, it all does its work on the mind. So, I'm going to acquiesce to this unrelenting urge I have and ask you to step outside your lives when you visit this blog and step into ours for a short time. After all, it happened to us, but something equally as devastating (or worse) could happen to any of you, anywhere. I'm going to go back in time and briefly deal with things I avoided addressing on this blog. I'm going to ask you to visit the blogs of other New Orleanians to whom I'll link in my posts, (but you can always visit on your own, as new links are being added to the sidebar all the time), who are doing such a fabulous job of painting a picture of life here. I'm ging to try to convey why New Orleans matters. And I'm probably going to ask you to comment from time to time. Just a little.
We've may have been abandoned by most of the rest of the world in many ways, but I really hope that there is at least one place that I can inhabit without feeling this way. Here.
Otherwise, it's sinn fein!
Here's request #1.
Read this article from the Washington Post.
And for this one, comments are turned off.
Thanks, and happy reading.