I have ideas for entries. I plan on going over the new seasons of reality television. I was thinking of writing about my next comic show trip if something funny happens. I'm planning on seeing the Mets next week. And all I can say is this: I'm sorry.
Last week, I heard about Hurricane Katrina, and I didn't take it seriously. I heard about people being evacuated to the Superdome. I saw Anderson Cooper out in the open, like he was a few weeks ago during another hurricane. So help me, I didn't think it was going to be a huge deal. Today, the state of Lousiana is a disaster. Thousands are dead, tens of thousands are without homes...and I'm not sure how I can help.
Okay...I have helped out a little. I sent $20 to help students dislocated by Katrina. I'm expecting money from articles I've written, and I plan on giving to the Red Cross. Heck, if they need blood, I can give that as well. But it doesn't feel like enough. I talked with an online friend, and she's going over there with the Red Cross. Meanwhile, I stay at home and obssess over Battle of the Network Reality Stars. I got a PhD in triviality.
I've been through this before...sort of. Granted, comparing last week's events to those in NYC some three years and 51 weeks ago is like comparing apples and oranges. There was a sense of panic and fear, as we wondered if a terrorist attack could be repeated. Hell, I had been to the city on 9/9 and 9/10...the latter for my first session of a grad course. On 9/11, I was supposed to get introduced to Sports Journalism, but I never left home. My mother, on the other hand, was on the Verrazano-Narrows Bridge when the first plane hit. I was lucky that I didn't have an early class that day, and that I didn't lose anybody that I knew. The city ended up rebounding, even if no replacement has been erected yet. I know that the odds of an immediate comeback are remote, but I'm sure New Yorkers are helping out. We'd be hypocrites not to do so.
I know that this blog is mostly fluff. Who cares if Rachel Robinson is a severe butterface, or how I'm guessing that Survivor: Gutemala won't rock as hard as Palau? I do feel that I keep perspective. I feel that words like "miracle" and "tragedy" can be used in the context of television and sports...as long as we know that it doesn't apply to real life. Honestly, why should one city go to pieces because some guy let a ball go between his legs? In the big picture, it doesn't matter. It shouldn't matter. But for Boston, Bill Buckner's flub in 1986 no long matters, because the Red Sox won the World Series last year. Same goes for reality television...I can call Amaya and Melissa's victory in the Sargeant Says mission during Battle of the Sexes as "The Miracle at Montego Bay" all I want, but it doesn't qualify either of them for sainthood. Ditto for the five Gauntlets that Sarah had to endure...but at that time, each victory was a stern "eat me" to the faction that wanted her gone, and I enjoyed it immensely. But once again...not a huge deal in the big picture.
I don't know what else to say. I've been getting some nice feedback in the last week. If I can provide a nice place for people to get away from the crappiness that's going on, perhaps I should be glad. Still, I'm going to try and do more with my life than this blog.