Who framed Roger...

I sent an email to my idol Roger Ebert a few months ago.

Since 1997, he and late Gene S. were the central source of my movie obsession. I'd spend hours and hours reading Ebert's reviews on Sun Times, then watch the movies and come back and check his reviews again to determine which parts I agreed with. Sometimes I agreed with him (George of the Jungle), and sometimes I'd go wha da fa (Dark City), but for the last ten years, I've read 90% of his reviews, looked for the movies mentioned (in theatre or pirated DVDs), and painstakingly rehearsed what I'd say to him if I ever ran into him on the street. It didn't help that the person I was in love with kinda looked like him as well. And unfortunately, even though he taught in the same univ I went to (different campus), we never met.

Anyways, I read somewhere about his ill health, and was concerned. It's like the Forrest Gump moment when Forrest stops running, and people running behind him are baffled as to what they should do with the subsequent life. So, in my inarticulate baffoonish language, with trembling fingers I shot out a short message on his site saying something like, "I'm sorry you are dying, but what about us? Whose review shall we read when you are gone? TELL ME!"

The ever humble and ever generous Answer Man graciously sent a one sentence reply, (I quote here) "The New York Times has a good crowd. Best, RE"

I have printed it out, and laminated it and kept it in my office drawer. In last two months, whenever I'm sad, depressed, pensive, I take it out of my drawer in the office, look at the strip of paper framed within plastic, figure that I will always have Roger in my life, and go back to the real world.

Real love may die (AN), or move on (PM), but reel love is forever.