We have been immersed in the news glut of Katrina for about a week now. Every newscast, every paper, every media-related website reports something about Katrina, every day. Even the images that automatically download when I start up Real Audio each morning display something about Katrina.

I’m reminded of the Columbine tragedy (BTW—what constitutes a tragedy vs. a catastrophe?) I live in the Denver area and with the school shootings so close to home, it was hard not to be glued to the TV. Yet when I went to work each day, I entered a completely different world. I worked as an engineer for Bell Labs, in a rambling building that had no windows. It was a Western Electric factory that had been converted to office space and the way to get around was to understand a numbering system for buildings, corridors, individual offices. So to locate my office, you’d have to decipher what “31F-109” meant. (Yes, I know, this is the epitome of geekiness—a building mapped out by engineers).

When I entered that fortress, I couldn’t tell whether it was raining or snowing outside. I had no link to the natural outside world. So when Columbine hit, I noticed that when I was at work, no one talked about it. It was business as usual. I found this strange that we were all human beings, disconnected from such a human story.

What I understand now is that in order to cope, sometimes we need to get into new space, to break from being underwater, if only briefly. I’m going to write about other stuff besides Katrina this week.