Dear Writer’s Guild,
Thanks for the strike. Seriously. Thank you.
I’m not saying this because I’m a scab. No, I support you guys 100% and believe in what you’re doing. (But you might want to remember all this support once the strike is over. I’m a playwright, you know; I could help you with those scripts and you’ll have a lot of catching up to do when the time comes.)(Oh, and to all you production companies, just because I’m not willing to be a scab doesn’t mean a guy doesn’t like to be asked… I’m just saying…)
I just want to thank you because this complete lack of new televisionage, er televisionation, um televisionoodle – with no new shows (and, no, Cashmere Mafia is not a new show – it’s Sex & the City by way of Disney) I have finally convinced Vicky to watch The West Wing. For years, I’ve been trying but, every time I ask she gives me this look. It says, “I’m going to have think, won’t I?” And it’s really hard to say, “Not a lot.”
This is all Vicky’s fault, by the way. Completely.
Say what you want about Rosa but she kept expectations low. Nobody ever expected her to be able to think so, when she did, we were all pleasantly surprised. She had the good sense to put the purses and shoes and credit cards all up front where people could see them and go “Ooooh… so you married that….” Vicky, on the other hand, kept the purses and shoes (and, in her case, Nascar and Tim McGraw) far in the back. When we first started dating, she put her best foot forward, with the other foot holding the closet shut where all her secrets hid. I was completely bamboozled. She even had out a copy of Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance. Now, listen, this was the book that changed my life; I was blown away. She even had a BIGGER copy of the book! Same book, sure, but it was BIGGER! Vicky didn’t bother to tell me that, though she read it, she hated the book. It put her to sleep. So, when I saw that, my first thought was, “I can watch West Wing with her! We can watch documentaries!” (I also wanted to do her. What can I say? Brainiac chicks are a turn-on.)
So, Vicky got herself into this mess, which has gone on since the day after the day we met… a while now. I’ve been trying to convince her to watch West Wing and, every time, she suddenly realizes she has some important… thing to do.
But, not anymore! With nothing on TV, she’ll HAVE to watch it! I have her now! Trapped!
So, please, keep up the good work.
Yours ever enviously,