I could see the red shirts from about half a block away. I glanced in the rear-view mirror at my son, sleepily gazing out the window.
“There’s going to be honking,” I warned him. “Loud beeping.”
We joined a truck and another car, just us three out of at least a dozen vehicles, in honking at the strikers in front of the Paramount gate.
As we continued down Melrose I tried to explain to my son, who is only one and a half, why we honked. And I began to cry, because the men and women in the red shirts are my heroes. They’re not just striking for 4¢ or for online residuals – they’re striking for me. They are fighting for something that I hope to benefit from. Someday, hopefully not too long from now, I will join the WGA. Thanks to the members striking now, I will get a fair share then.
So thanks, guys. I know my honking is inadequate expression of how grateful I am. It was the best I could do today. I hope to do better tomorrow.