Roger and Me.

I do not deserve the good I have been given. That much is clear. I am a selfish, groveling attention whore whose most genuine feelings are dusted with self-promotion sequins.

*clears throat*

Earlier this week, I read a blog post Roger Ebert wrote about his new chin prosthetic. Something he said really touched--and I say that advisedly, because nothing ever "touches" me--me: "I accept how I look. Lord knows I've paid the dues."

I wrote him a thank-you for that blog entry, because it expresses how I feel: I've paid the dues; I accept how I sound. It's what I *am*, now; I really can't remember being any other way.

In that thank-you note, I included the link for Head Nurse. And tonight, I got a note from Mr. Ebert, telling me that he'd read the blog, Tweeted it, and send a donation to Wash and Tashi.

Which, after I'd finished hopping around and doing a fist-pump and calling Beloved Sister and Sainted Mother and posting on Jez and generally flipping the fuck out, made me sit down and think this:

This guy I've never met, to whom I matter not at all, was kind enough to click a link I sent him. Yeah, it's a second's worth of effort, but you never get that second back, and who knows if he was wasting his time?

He then found the top post about Wash and Tashi, and read it, and read their story as Tashi tells it, and decided to send it out to the however-many followers he's got on Twitter.

It's not a big deal, until you realize how big a deal it is. Somebody I don't know took the time to check out something I wrote and take up for a couple of people neither one of us knows in the flesh, in a way that could potentially make a huge difference for them.

Tashi and Wash love each other like most of us would be lucky to love somebody after a lifetime of misdirection and mistakes. Wash got the short end of the stick with his diagnosis, but the long end when it comes to having somebody who's willing to fight for him regardless of what obstacles are put up. The idea that somebody who can make a difference could be moved by that isn't so hard to believe, until it happens.

There is a book by Emma Bull called War For The Oaks. It's uneven, and a little weird, but in it, Bull writes that the words "Thank You" have a special power for people who aren't exactly human: fairies never use that phrase to each other, unless it's because one of them has gone to immense, life-saving lengths for another. Those words signify a debt taken on voluntarily that can never be paid.

Mr. Ebert, thank you. With one tweet, you've done more for two people than I could ever do in another ten years of blogging, and you did it in response to what was not-so-subtle attention-whoring.

I do not deserve the good that comes of this, but thank you. Thank you.