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Jeff Weinstein's Cultural Mixology

Handful of Clouds

January 3, 2008 by Jeff Weinstein

1934_picket_line_6x11_300_dpi.jpg
Don’t scab! A 1934 San Francisco picket line.
Who (or Whom) Do You Trust?
Have you ever crossed a picket line?
That uncommon test of one’s character — uncommon because there are fewer unions and fewer union actions — is more likely to be faced vicariously and safely on the Sally Field platforms of narrative culture. But you probably know why I’m asking, because on the new year’s first Wednesday night, a certain “populist” presidential candidate crossed the line, as it were, in Burbank, Calif., to appear with fellow gay-baiter Jay Leno. (The Huckabee thread on the Writers Guild of America website is heartening.)
So I bravely decided that I wouldn’t cross this virtual picket line and chose to watch David Letterman instead, hoping that the items on his Top Ten List would be union demands. And they were, each read by a striking member of the Writers Guild:
“Complimentary tote bag with next insulting contract offer” — The Daily Show’s Tim Carvell
“I’m no accountant, but instead of us getting 4 cents for a $20 dollar DVD, how about we get $20 for a 4-cent DVD?” — Law & Order’s Gina Johnfrido
“Hazard pay for breaking up fights on The View” — Nora Ephron
Progressive owner Dave settled a better-than-decent contract with his shop, so he had a new written show. Leno wrote his own, and there’s still some guild discussion as to whether that makes him a scab.
“Scab” is a noun and a verb.
Letterman’s Jan. 2 show, the first in months that wasn’t a rerun, began with a line of high-stepping chorines holding Writers Guild signs. “How ’bout those Eugene V. Debs?” Dave quips, demonstrating why his program will never be the talk-show front-runner, appealing as it does to a slightly skewed demographic.
Debs’s V, by the way, stands for Victor, an optimistic touch.
voicefront.jpgvoiceback.jpg
Village Voice union T-shirt, early ’90s, front and back
Saving Our Voice
Speaking of V, the Village Voice, where I worked for almost two decades, was unionized, but not with the usual newsprint union, the Newspaper Guild. That cement-bound group was suspicious of the weekly paper’s use of regular freelance writers and wouldn’t be bothered to find a way to cover them. Sad to say, the Newspaper Guild does poorly with those sort of real-life issues even now.
District 65, a smaller but much more creative organization, bargained these writers in and helped us to negotiate contract after contract with Voice owners such as Rupert Murdoch. District 65 later merged with the United Auto Workers, which gave us pink-collar types an iconic — yet ironic — assembly-line oomph during our CBGB-ish fundraisers.
Unions and the arts, together again.
* * *
Can anyone recognize where the title of this posting comes from? Or — easier — the first subhed?
For an automatic alert when there is a new Out There post, email jiweinste@aol.com.

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Comments

  1. thegayrecluse says

    January 4, 2008 at 2:25 pm

    Umm–I kind of cheated, but here’s my guess…Cop to Hood: “You’re going to treat yourself to a handful of clouds, I mean the kind that come out from the end of a .38 automatic.”
    From Doorway to Hell (1930)

Jeff Weinstein

Based in New York, I've been an editor of arts coverage at New York's "Soho Weekly News" (1977-79); of visual arts and architecture criticism and much else at the "Village Voice" (1981-95, with a stint as managing editor of "Artforum"); of the fine arts at the "Philadelphia Inquirer" (1997-2006); of arts and culture at "Bloomberg News" (2006-07). Until recently... Read More…

Out There

The media make a potentially fatal mistake by dividing arts coverage into high and low, old and young, and by trivializing our passionate attraction to things. In Out There I propose that all creative expression has the potential to be both … [Read More...]

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I wrote and narrated a Daylight Magazine slideshow (click on "Read more" below to access it and the rest), an appreciation of the late photographer Milton Rogovin. Also one about the late photographer Helen Levitt. To go back in time, kindly click … [Read More...]

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