
Do… Do you wanna have catch?
*music soars*

Above? Is a comment on my paypal account from the wonderful Aimee.
She is one of many people I have had the pleasure to meet in person. We got lost together trying to find the rest of the internet for brunch when I went to Kansas City.
I took a picture of her eating toast.
We both knew each other on Twitter and Tumblr, but in person, we didn’t talk much. But for only one reason…
See, there is a shyness and social awkwardness of all of us beyond the safety of our computers. We’re a special kind of nerd. It’s still charming in it’s way, but the underlying love we have and the need to protect and help our own is astonishing and heartening.
It’s a big tree house, but it’s our tree house.
But this blog?
This blog is a belated thank you.
It’s a thank you with me unable to make eye contact and ashamed to have my hand out, regardless if it was pryed by many angels from a clutched, shaking fist.
I never wanted this. Who does? I still remember looking at my mother when she was a single mom struggling, and telling her, “One day, mom, I’ll buy you a big house and you’ll never have to work again.”
Instead, a grown ass man, due to a series of unfortunate events that would make Job gasp, had to ask her for gas money less than a month ago.
Less than a year ago, we were fine. Completely. We didn’t have much in the way of money, but we were safe. Content. Secure.
Then, thanks to medical bills, a car going completely out of commission when we live in the largest populated city without mass transit, and a job loss when our savings had been depleted… all was lost.
The simple things were downgraded. Dirt cheap internet, not as many get togethers, private pre-K for my daughter… and yet, still, here I was with no way to pay rent, electricity, groceries.
I couldn’t look my own child in the face without wanting to cry and my ironclad rule I imposed on myself the moment she was born? She wasn’t going to see me cry.
Then I got an email from Janet.
She insisted on details and I flooded out, venting and telling her my fears. Not two hours later, a pledgie campaign was done in my name.
I felt embarrassed, but grateful. I figured through some good contacts, maybe I would have enough to at least get groceries for the family while I regrouped and tried to figure something out.
But then my gmail wouldn’t stop going off on my phone.
“Payment received of $25.” “$5.00” “$200.00…”
It was overwhelming.
Thanks to your kindness sympathy, and in some cases, empathy… I kept the lights on, the kids fed, the phones on and the internet alive (for her job search.) I was able to pay part of our rent, enough to keep us where we are now, as without the donations, we would have easily been on the street.
Maybe not literally homeless, but most likely our family split up, living at the meager homes of others in just as hard economic times. My family split up would have murdered me.
You people? You people saved me and my family. That is no exaggeration and that is the stark, plain truth.
Janet tried to get me the $2000 I needed to cover the bills behind right now and the rest of the rent for June. I didn’t quite make it, and I will figure something out. I am more optimistic than I once was…
I will never properly thank all of you enough. Not to my liking. I hated this position. I want to be the smart ass, good humored funny writer that people like to read and not ever think of as a mortal, dumb ass without the ability to support his own family.
But I appreciated every bit of support. The reblogs of the campaign, the silly apologies in private about not being able to give more than you did, for the people who had no business in the position they were in to donate to me.
“It’s just what friends do.”
Indeed.
Thank you.