News From the Front

Having just spoken to the troops on the front lines and the mixer at a local brew pub, I can tell you that overall morale is good. The WGA and their partners at SAG/AFTA will win this battle. And I can tell you why:
 
They are right!
 
I arrived at Disney Studios in Burbank about an hour early and forded the first Rubicon quickly: Finding a place to park. 
 
Buoyed by my success, I promptly signed in at the table and had a quick chat with Jake.  100-plus days, and Jake’s mood remained friendly yet determined. Waiting for others, I grabbed a sign and stationed myself at one end of the entrance. Several supportive honks later, I received my first drive-by heckle. 
 
“Get back to work!”
 
I only wish it was that easy but appreciated the support. At five minutes till nine, I began my vigil, cocking my sign over my shoulder for my first trip around the studio. Like Joshua bringing down the walls of Jericho, I was going to bring the entire Mouse House down to its knees. 
 
Fifteen-plus minutes later, I had completed my first trip. I celebrated with some hydration and found that reinforcements had arrived. Now, I was part of something, and we headed around for a second time. 
 
Precisely halfway through the second trip, SAG/AFTRA had arrived at the south entrance, the LOTR elves to the WGA dwarves. Happy, singing, chanting, they it was like temporarily stepping into a fleeting Lothlorien that lasted less than a block. Still, the captains shouted their encouragement and showered me with gifts of boxes of water and candy. 
 
Completing my second trip, I hydrated again, stopping briefly in the shade to enjoy the antics of the skateboarding Mandalorian and the actor who voices Donald Duck before taking my third trip. 
 
Kids had arrived, along with dogs and bicyclists with sound systems. It was Ace in the Hole without a guy dying in the cave, and the overall atmosphere had risen along with the temperature. 
 
Team Captains from both unions urged hydration, and with the temperature rising above eighty degrees, I gladly took them up on the offer. Each half-lap was celebrated by more and more water, and as quickly it was consumed, seep out of my skin. 
 
“Pizza has arrived.” 
 
Like orange slices handed out to runners at a marathon, “za” was handed out to strikers. The other free goodies deployed soft-serve ice cream, iced coffee, and shaved ice.  
 
Before 11:30, I had closed all three rings on my Apple watch and had the pulsating sore feet to prove it. Thank goodness for orthopedic shoes. 
 
But seriously, folks:
 
Kudos to the men and women from both unions who do their part daily, weekly, and even monthly. We owe them a debt. These people all know what is at stake and are more than willing to do their part to ensure a fair agreement. 
 
A decent livelihood is at stake here. Both Unions know this and need you to know it as well.