What happened on this odd day.
I woke up a tad late this morning but I still managed to wake my sister up so she can get ready for work. I had planned on leaving for the bus with my mother at about 10am. We just had to wait for my aunt’s fiancé to come and drop off my mother’s bus pass and pick up my aunt’s car keys. He came shortly before ten and we left shortly after that. Because of all the waiting busses make you do we arrived at Universal Studios around 12:30pm.
We see the picketers across the street and I hear the cars drive by honking their horns. One after the other a honk here and a honk there and a honk, honk everywhere. Normally when I hear cars honking I get the sudden burst of anger and I’d like to shout out at the top of my lung. Not today, today I got the sense of honor. They were honking for my people, they were honking for the very people I honor and respect. If a simple little honk made me feel pretty darn good, and I wasn’t even picketing yet, can you imagine how the actual picketers felt? It is a certain boost of moral and it always a joy to know that there are people out there who understand and support you and your cause.
My mother and I cross the street to the picketers and we ask how we could go about getting a sign because we were offering our services. Unfortunately all the signs were being used and there really was not much else to do. They thanked us for our support so my mother and I crossed the street again to try and figure something else. We could have just kept walking back and for across the street with the picketers, but for some reason without a sign it would have looked odd to me. The sudden wave or helplessness and being un-useful came over me and I felt just terrible for dragging my mother all the way down there when she could have been in bed resting. My mother decided we should go to city walk, eat some lunch and check back. By the time we finished lunch the shift for the picketers was coming to a close.
As we waited to cross the street I over-hear one of the picketers shout “Go Jaguars!! WOOO AHHHH!” and I smile because I know who the Jaguars are! They are a strike team that the screenwriter, John August, discussed in his blog. I suddenly felt giddy again but then as we left I still felt distressed that I couldn’t do more for them. I didn’t have enough money to buy them all food nor anything to drink. So I was basically useless.
My mother and I got on to the train and headed home. Much to our surprise one of the writer’s that was picketing stood by us. We told him that we supported him and the other writers and the smile that was on his face made the day worth it. He thanked us for our support. We discussed the strike a little and I was informed that there was going to be another rally on Hollywood Blvd next Tuesday. All the unions are supposed to meet up so hopefully this gets them the much-needed attention that they deserve. I was also informed of how to get into the WGA. For those of your writers who are curious, you have to sell one feature length script or sell three thirty-minute episodes for a TV show. One-way to help ease your way into the WGA is through a fellowship with a studio. He suggested ABC since that was how he did it back in the day. I looked up the information and when they put the application back up I will be jumping at that like Christmas in July! First I must find out if I can even still apply since the strike and all. I don’t want to do anything to jeopardize my chance of joining the WGA. Sounds like a great program though and if I can get out of my “lovely” cashier job I would definitely be overjoyed! Shortly after that the writer left and I never got his name. I say thanks to you my fellow peer! Thank you for your advice and know I support you!
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