For Lent every year, I usually give up television and movies. Not for religious purposes, but more for a yearly cleanse. Usually, I do this without purpose (except for a vague desire to "read more.") What usually happens is that I spend more time on the computer and at the end of Lent, I feel vaguely refreshed but unaccomplished.
That's why I'm taking a more focused attempt this year. This year, I am spending my Lenten free time by reading and re-reading 13 years of back-issues of Esquire magazine. Esquire has always been one of my favorite reads, but it suffers from my love of it. I rarely finish an issue, because I want it to last the whole month, and then when the new issue arrives, I never get around to finishing the previous. It's a vicious cycle that ends now. I began with this month's issue, and I was not disappointed.
The article about Roger Ebert (someone I've always admired and now love) is so wonderful, I read it twice and cried all the way through each time. It is one of the most uplifting and heartbreaking articles you'll read all year. Stop what you're doing right now. Take ten minutes and read this.
It has been nearly four years since Roger Ebert lost his lower jaw and his ability to speak. Now television's most famous movie critic is rarely seen and never heard, but his words have never stopped.
via www.esquire.com
This part broke my heart: "All these years later, the top half of Ebert's face still registers sadness when Siskel's name comes up. His eyes well up behind his glasses, and for the first time, they overwhelm his smile. He begins to type into his computer, slowly, deliberately. He presses the button and the speakers light up. "I've never said this before," the voice says, "but we were born to be Siskel and Ebert." He thinks for a moment before he begins typing again. There's a long pause before he hits the button. "I just miss the guy so much," the voice says. Ebert presses the button again. "I just miss the guy so much.""
And then there's this: "I believe that if, at the end of it all, according to our abilities, we have done something to make others a little happier, and something to make ourselves a little happier, that is about the best we can do. To make others less happy is a crime. To make ourselves unhappy is where all crime starts. We must try to contribute joy to the world. That is true no matter what our problems, our health, our circumstances. We must try. I didn't always know this, and am happy I lived long enough to find it out."
That's fine enough to serve as a eulogy for this great man. It's something to aspire to.
