a writer's perspective

Back on the picket line after the holiday break, and it feels like the first day back at school. People are happy to see each other. Everyone is refreshed and rejuvenated, and spirits are high, despite the fact that it’s 6AM and seems to be about 14 degrees outside.

It’s hard to believe that it’s already Day 64 of the strike. It’s been 31 days since the AMPTP walked out of the negotiations, and according to a widget at unitedhollywood.com, the AMPTP’s refusal to negotiate has already cost the LA economy over $665,000,000 dollars. Thanks, gloomy widget.

Every person that straggles in today is greeted with a resounding “Happy New Year” from the entire crowd. People cheer and those of us who thought ahead toast with our travel coffee mugs. The turnout is impressive. My friend calls me from the Fox picket line freaking out. “There’s like two hundred people here!”

Carrying the picket sign feels foreign to me. It’s like I have to teach myself how to walk in a circle for several hours all over again. In no time, however, I’m starting to feel like my old self. Ahhh… There’s that familiar back pain. Within fifteen minutes, I’ve got all my moves back. The “Good Morning Cars, Nice To See You”, the “Single-handed Twirl To Slightly Raise or Lower The Sign”, the “Sign-Shoulder Siesta”, the “Brother, Can I Get A Honk?”, and the advanced “Hey! Look At Me! It’s Like I’m Rowing A Boat!”

Around 7, a huge group of Warner Brothers security guards walk into the studio together. They greet us like old friends. People talk about what they did on their vacations, and several of them show off their new red shirts, red hats, red gloves, red jackets, and red scarves that they got from Santa (or from Hannukah Harry). I also got a really nice wool cap and scarf as a Christmas gift, but I’m an idiot, and I left them at home.

I wish I had more coffee. Not because I need more caffeine, but because I really want to be holding something warm. I wonder if there’s some way to replace the sticks on the picket signs with some sort of solar-powered heat sticks.

Just as the sun starts to rise, it gets noticeably colder. Someone claims that there’s a scientific explanation as to why this happens. It’s the same reason that it gets warmer just after the sun sets, and it sort of makes sense. We immediately nickname the striker “Mr. Wizard”, and marvel at the snow in the nearby mountains.

Somebody asks me if I’ve been growing a strike beard, and I realize that I haven’t shaved in two weeks. I tell him, “No. I’ve just been really fucking lazy.” I also tell him that I stopped trimming my nose hair when the strike began and that I’m not going to trim it until the producers give in to our demands. If this goes on long enough I should have a pretty nice nose-beard. Or is that nose-stache?

photo by Heath Biter for LAist