writers on strike and what it means to la

Recently I was explaining to someone the difference between the Bay Area and LA. I have lived in both places, so speak from experience.

The way I see it, the big difference is that just about everyone who comes to LA wants to be (or finds themselves) connected to Hollywood. They want to be in the biz. In fact, at most large gatherings of people, you should not be surprised for people to come up to you to either brag about how they are connected, or to ask you how you are (and if you are not, don't be surprised if they walk away).

That is why this writer's strike is so scary. Let me step back and say that I totally support what the writer's guild is fighting for, I am just concerned about the little people who can get hurt and lost in the shuffle.

While most people have dreams of being (famous) actors or directors or producers or writers, most realize that you have to start somewhere, and so try and get support roles, aka support jobs at the big studios. If that doesn't work out, a wait job at a restaurant where studio execs are known to lunch isn't bad either. The other people who don't have these dreams (or won't openly admit to them), may still end up on Hollywood's payroll indirectly, providing goods and service to the stars. And of course, tourism is tied in big ways to Hollywood, just think Disney. You may not realize this, but there are few large corporations with headquarters in Los Angeles. It is Hollywood that keeps LA's economy ticking.

So as these shows start to close, it isn't just the writers and actors that aren't collecting paychecks. It is all the support people, and not just the ones you see at the end credits. Putting out a television series or a movie takes many people: lighting, sound, casting, publicity, catering, set directors, costume design, special effects, people to answer the phone, people to answer the mail, people to maintain the websites, cleaning crew, and so on. Outside the studio lot are the additional support people: from those businesses providing lunch and props to individuals providing child care and maid service. When you start to think about you see where all this is leading.

Meanwhile gas is over $3 a gallon and housing prices are starting to fall. It will take a lot before the big guys at the studios to feel this. For the little people it isn't going to take much at all. Life in LA is not for the weak or the faint of heart.

If you want a first hand account of a writer on the front lines, I highly recommend pamie.com. This is the blog of Pamela Ribon, who worked her way up and just landed a writing gig on the hit series, Samantha Who? (I'd link to the site, but she isn't getting paid). She is also the award-winning author of Why Girls are Weird and Why Moms are Weird. (Those links will take you to Amazon where you can buy her books and she will get paid.)

I will never forget when I attended her book signing. B and I arrived early and were in the cafe at Border's hanging out. When he sat down, about $40 fell out of his pocket. Pamie was sitting at a nearby table, and was kind enough to pick it up and hand it back to B, explaining what had happened. That is just what a class act she is. I am heartbroken to even think that my signed copy of Why Moms are Weird may have been stolen when our storage space was broken into. I so can't go there right now. But for her sake and those of everyone else that can be impacted in this, I hope it is over quickly, and that the writers are victorious.

p.s. If you are in LA, and want to go out and support the writers, here are the details.

on the night stand :: The Great Man

losses

There was a break-in at our storage space in Emeryville. They stole about 30 boxes of stuff. Then they closed up the space and put another lock on it. We weren't the only victims-there were several others. It isn't clear exactly when it happened. The whole incident is still very upsetting. I am trying not to take it personally.

We lost many books. I have no idea who would steal books, or why. Resale isn't great. I just don't get it.

We also lost some Christmas ornaments. One of them is pictured above. We bought that at Anthropologie. Something to brighten up the house in LA. I hung them from the chandelier to be funny. It looked like they were swimming about. Of course, I took them down when B's parents came. And into the box, which was placed in storage, and which is now who knows where.

Another one that I packed away was from Smith and Hawken. They brought back the limited edition, hand painted ornaments based on works of art. They come in little wooden crates. They had stopped doing them for a few years and I was so excited to see them back.

Much of what was taken were things that we had bought in this last year to help keep us sane. To make us feel at home, even though we lacked a true place to call home.

In some ways I was planning ahead. Preparing for our home. It was a sign that I hadn't given up hope. I bought a framed print of an Asian woman with a Chicken. I got it at Builder's Booksource in Berkeley. It was a birthday present to myself. I had also seen one of her prints in the bathroom at Lovejoy's Tea Room. That one had the same woman and a baby in it.

We broke the glass taking it down to LA. I then brought it back up north and had the glass fixed at Cheap Pete's. We then decided to put it in storage for safe keeping. I don't even know the name of the artist.

Then there were the rooster cups. I saw them in the Sur La Table catalog and had been lusting after them. We needed something to drink out of, so I called a dozen Sur La Table stores to find them. They shipped me eight from Arizona and then they went on sale, so I think I bought two more at a local store.

I also ordered the matching teapot and creamer and sugar bowl when they went on sale. The teapot arrived without a lid. I called and then sent me another teapot. So I have one complete teapot, one without a lid, a sugar bowl and a creamer. I have no cups.

These were marking Kellogg's 100th anniversary. They were big white mugs with a simple red cutout of the rooster. They were great for tea.

As I mentioned, the bulk of what was taken was books and CD's. I was so good about using Vox to catalog the things I packed away in Chicago, but got lazy when we came to California. I don't have the heart to look and see what is in LA and do a matchup to conclude what is gone. I fear for Mr Pusskins (and many of my other children's books).

I also think the book, Why Moms are Weird, that Pamie signed for me at the Borders in San Francisoc, may be among the lost. Again, who steals books!!

The other side of this is that these folks may be more than just looking for household items to stock their home. There is the possibility they are looking to be far sinister. Before we realized this B got a call from one of his credit card companies that someone had tried to use his card. Thankfully the charge didn't go through. Then he got a call from his bank, which is Internet only, that someone used his ATM card in Mexico City. What was bizarre is that he a)had the card and b)didn't know the number himself as it isn't on any paper and everything on line simply refers to the last four digits only. Everyone suspected it to be a case where the card data was literally swiped and then put into a fake card.

To make matters more strange, the card that was used is also the one linked to pay for the storage unit. Since B had to get a new number, he went to the storage space to give them the new information. While he was there no one mentioned the break ins that had been happening. It never crossed our minds that this could be the issue. And it still remains unclear if this is all just random, and our number was just up.

We have taken precautions to try and prevent anything further from happening. More fun days spent on the phone. B had to have at least two forms notorized. One cost him $10 to do so. Life can seem so unfair sometimes. Still though, I try to see the bright side:

I will leave you with this quote from Superhero (who I randomly bumped into at the drugstore of all places the day before I realized this all happened):

It makes me of think of that quote from Anne Lamott’s Traveling Mercies:


“Carolyn Myss, the medical intuitive who writes and lectures about why people don’t heal, flew to Russia a few years ago to give some lectures. Everything that could go wrong did-flights were cancelled or overbooked, connections missed, her reserved room at the hotel given to someone else. She kept trying to be a good sport, but finally, two mornings later, on the train to her conference on healing, she began to whine at the man sitting beside her about how infuriating her journey had been thus far.

It turned out that this man worked for the Dalai Lama. And he said-gently-that they believe when a lot of things are going wrong all at once, it is to protect something big and lovely that is trying to get itself born-and that this something needs for you to be distracted so that it can be born as perfectly as possible.”

The above is from here.


on the nightstand :: Glimpses of Grace by Madeleine L'Engle (who died today)