Though my husband and I worked as a scriptwriting team, ours is a mixed marriage with him belonging to Writers Guild East while I remain a member of Writers Guild West. Our families accepted this, and we raised our son on both coasts, exposing him to the L.A. Farmers Market as well as to New York's Zabars, giving him the option of choosing a coast as an adult. Indications are he'll go with the East Coast, perhaps because he prefers smoked chubs to sprouts.
The Writers Guild strike has introduced a problem in our relationship. It's going longer than we'd anticipated and we hadn't stockpiled enough anecdotes, jokes and witty observations. Prohibited from creating new material, we are, like The Daily Show, forced to resort to dated quips about Theresa Heinz Kerry and Kato Kaelin, tell anecdotes that happened during the Bush 41 and Clinton administrations and resurrect arguments from 2005 as to whether or not it's worth getting up at 4 AM to go to the fish market in Tokyo.
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