GaGa's apartment supposedly has a "red dot" now -- there are many families of residents in her building starting to find one another and multiple plans, but the truth is we don't even know how many of them are alive, whether they are still there, and if they get (have been?) rescued, where they will end up. I am a basket case, frankly, because I've got nothing at all on Uncle Al. He's a 74-yr-old television curmudgeon on Nola's pbs station for years, and has written columns for Gambit, the Times Pic, and basically a fixture of the town, but I've no idea whether he is even alive still.
*do* I live in the United States? It does not feel like it. I remember what it was like trying to find Jeri Ann and Jason (who worked in the towers and both miraculously survived) -- it took a week, or possibly more, to find them, but I never, ever, ever felt this isolated while trying to find them. The entire country rose up, the media cooperated, and Rudy Guiliani was in charge. Where is that esprit du corps now? Why has it gone?
I'm rambling, and I'm sorry. I'll start cut-tagging these if you guys are getting sick of hearing about all of this mess. Emotional rollercoasters and tragedies 'r' us this summer, it seems.