Like something out of an Odets play, Adam, my Recognized-by-the-State-of-California-Domestic-Partner, went off this morning just before 9 to march in front of CBS on Beverly Boulevard near The Grove. He wore a fire engine red WGA T-shirt and a floppy hat.
It was so quiet in the house, it felt momentous. I read a Newsweek in bed.
When he returned, he was exhausted and had the look of someone who had been carrying a sign on a pike for four hours. The worst part? The entrance that he was walking across was sloped, so the whole time he walked sideways across a small hill. You know how that can do you in.
I bet this striking business lands a lot of writers at the acupuncture office.
But it must be done. The producers are pig-swine.
How many homes, boats, planes and islands must one own before one can feel good about oneself? It’s beyond ludicrous. You know, I heard something about capitalism: People are motivated by greed.
Here’s a nice big push against that. The fight is worth it.
If I were a member of the WGA, I’d do the afternoon shift.
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