Not Joining in the Writer's Strike

It’s over. 100 days after they started parading up and down the streets with their picket signs, the writers who think up scripts and funny jokes have finally come to terms with the movie and television studio types who make all the money when people laugh and cry during their favorite shows.

Two-thirds of Americans supported the writers. Only 4% felt the studios were right. The rest simply didn’t care. So which category did yours truly- a so-called writer- fit into? You may be surprised to learn that I found myself squarely entrenched in the “I don’t care” camp.

My reasons are simple. First of all, I’m not pretentious enough to consider myself a writer. I’m a pretender at best. So to assume that I have some brethren-like connection with these masters of creativity would be superfluous. (Okay, I just used a big word like superfluous, creating the impression that I am indeed an accomplished writer. Rest assured it’s an illusion.)

Second of all, I still haven’t quite figured out what they were so flaming mad about. Something about getting a higher percentage of DVD sales on the movies and shows they produced. And they also wanted a piece of the action when their creations appeared on the internet. Sounds good to me- maybe I could find a way to charge people when they read my online blog. But the legalities of the whole uproar confuse and baffle me.

Thirdly, I must admit that I don’t watch that much television. Call me un-American if you wish, but I’ve never seen a full episode of Desperate Housewives, Lost, American Idol, CSI (in any of the big cities), or House. And when I can’t go to sleep, I read a book or watch Seinfeld reruns instead of tuning in to the Lettermans and Lenos of the late night world. So to be honest, I didn’t really notice there was a strike going on, except when I saw pictures of some of the late night hosts sporting beards to demonstrate their support of the strike.

Shouldn’t those late night hosts- all former comedians- be able to think up their own jokes anyway? Turns out, except for the ridiculous appearance of their beards, they’re not so funny after all. The writers have a monopoly on humor, so it seems.

I will admit to watching an occasional reality show on television. Turns out they have writers, too. Which is curious bein’s how they don’t have scripts. Yet their “writers” are striking just like the rest, claiming their “creation of interesting scenarios and shaping of raw material into entertaining narrative” constitutes a form of writing that should allow them the same benefits afforded regular writers. Whatever.

Throughout the ordeal, I considered the potential impact of my own personal writer’s strike. Fortunately or unfortunately for you, I have decided against it for two reasons. First, I perceive a potential scenario where a little girl comes up to me in the grocery store and begs me to continue writing this column. “The only way we can get my puppy to go on the newspaper is to have your face showing in the bottom of his box,” she would say while wiping a tear.

Secondly, and more importantly, I don’t really want to grow an itchy beard.