Sunday

How did I spend my Sunday afternoon? Thanks for asking. In the rainy and cloudy weather we had, what better way than to watch two of the LPGA's best players battle it out in sunny Florida? I know, you could think of a dozen better things, but that's part of the "sick" title, isn't it?

Rather than watch 6th round NFL draft picks on ESPN, [yawn] I decided (prudently) to wander over to ESPN2 to watch the girls battle it out in Adventura, Florida. It was Annika versus Paula Creamer in what would become a sudden death playoff. For the record, the "death" part is exaggerated. They're both alive and well, although one of them (Annika) has a big glass trophy and the other one has to deal with defeat. Paula will be just fine.

For those of you who may not know, the actors are preparing to strike, as their writing brethren did a few months ago. Their contract expires on June 30, and Hollywood is nervous about the "talent" walking out just as the writers did.

Big names like George Clooney and Tom Hanks have been quietly urging Screen Actors Guild president Alan Rosenberg to commence negotiations now in hopes of averting another contentious battle. Even AFTRA (SAG's sister organization, the American Federation of Television and Radio Artists) reportedly wants to start formal talks.

Things like that make me think. Entertainers have a strange compensation program. Writers, producers and actors are paid every time a program runs, while the rest of us are paid once for what we do. They call it a residual payment, but to me it sounds like a scheme.

The original residual agreements for television shows never anticipated the number of repeat broadcasts that some well-loved television series would eventually see in syndication. As a result, the residual payments were generally limited to about six broadcasts. This was changed in the mid-1970s, when contracts for new television shows extended residual payments without limit on the number of repeats.
Under the current system, the television production company retains 80% of the fees earned from reruns. The other 20% is paid to the various performers and off-camera crew.

Suppose the nurse who gave you a cortisone shot for a sore elbow got a few extra cents every time you bent your arm? Maybe your high school history teacher should get a nickel every time you remember that Charles Julius Guiteau assassinated James A. Garfield?

Or maybe I should get a cut, too?

For all of the fascinating junk I've exposed to you over the past couple of years, I could probably retire. Once again, I've picked the wrong job.