It’s the same song. And once you go to a jury…

You’ve got to understand the law is not about common sense. It’s not about deciding who is right. It’s about laws, both statutes and cases, and even though someone or something might smell guilty, that does not mean they are under the law. Which is a good thing. Because it makes life predictable.

So, the judge didn’t allow the recording of Marvin Gaye’s “Got To Give It Up” to be played in court, at least at first, and it came down to the sheet music and you could see why Pharrell and Thicke thought they had a chance, at least their lawyers thought they had a chance, but juries are notorious for going on feeling/running on emotions.

This should have been settled out of court.

Then again, you’ve got to come up with a number, you’ve got to make an agreement. For every case like Sam Smith’s where the parties are amenable, there are others where one party is entrenched and unreasonable, sometimes even both!

That’s what they don’t tell you about the law. It’s not about the courtroom, it’s about settlement, negotiation, and the key is to have an attorney who knows how to get an agreement, who is also willing to go to court if one cannot be reached.

So…

It’s the same damn song. Everybody knows that.

Where is the line?

WHO KNOWS!!

Sure, there are a limited number of notes, but the truth is most people don’t have enough money to sue, so stuff never gets to court, never mind settlement.

And then there are those who let it ride.

But when you have heirs who didn’t write the music to begin with and are living off the proceeds…it’s hard to let things go.

As for the amount of money made by the track, revealed in the courtroom, THAT’S A GOOD THING! For over a decade we’ve had to hear how the music business is challenged, how you just can’t make any money. Then you’ve got these guys rolling in dough. It’ll encourage people to make music. To the degree the numbers are even remembered.

That’s right, Pharrell and Thicke’s checks are an antidote to the Wall Street/financial money. Who wouldn’t rather be a musician? Everything they’ve been telling us is wrong. There’s tons of dough if you’re great and successful. It’s just that most people aren’t. And it’s these losers who are complaining the loudest. As are those inured to recording monies. But if you can make this much on recordings, and you’ve got live income too? WHOOPEE!

So if you rip off someone else’s track, consciously or subconsciously, and you have a hit with it, chances are you’re gonna be sued.

Hell, the truth is you’re gonna be sued even if there is no similarity! The old axiom applies, that’s right, “Where there’s a hit, there’s a writ!” Talk to the superstars, they’ve all been harassed and sued for no good reason, it goes with the territory.

But if it’s too close…

As for a rash of these lawsuits, give me a break. Were the courts littered with cases after the George Harrison “My Sweet Lord”/”He’s So Fine” case? NO!

So the only story here is people might think a bit harder as to whether they copied and if they did, and the song makes bank, they’re gonna get a phone call.

Once upon a time, rappers sampled hit records willy-nilly, that’s history.

And if you copy, you’re probably gonna be busted.

Once again, where’s the line?

1. No one cares about a track that doesn’t make money. You don’t spend all that money suing to make nothing.

2. If there is similarity, you may or may not be sued, and if you are, you’re usually better off settling.

3. Juries are unpredictable. And they tend to run on emotion. The songs were so similar that the jurors felt the injustice and found for the plaintiffs. Judges can frequently separate emotions from facts, but not juries.

4. Appeal. Juries get it wrong all the time. And judgments are reduced or cases are sent back for retrial and… Frequently, settlement is achieved and the number you see in the news is never paid.

So…

How many of these lawsuits do we hear about? How many go to trial?

Almost none.

So, sleep tight and know that music still rains down money, no matter what everybody in it keeps saying…

Dan and I skied Marx. A double diamond on the side of Lone Peak…I haven’t skied anything that steep in eons.

But it wasn’t the steepness, but the bumps on top that were challenging.

Let me put it this way…this is the kind of slope where if you fall, you slide all the way to the bottom. And if you’re lucky, you’ll miss the rocks. And the rest of the posse hit it the morning of the very first day.

Needless to say I’ve got more experience than they do. Forget the past, even this year I’ve skied ten times as much. And the thing about testing yourself, challenging yourself…you want to be at one with your body, you want to know where all the moving parts are, you want to be so prepared that if you make a mistake, you can recover.

But guys on vacation don’t think this way. They’ve got something to prove. And the testosterone makes it so no one can back out. Hell, it took all my inner strength to say no the very first day. And now having skied Marx, I’m glad I held back. My calf was still killing me. Psychologically it would have been tough.

Which is all to say when today’s lunch discussion turned to the tram and the snowboarders’ desire to do Marx again this afternoon, I said I was out.

So greetings from Big Sky, on the top of the country, so far out of the way it feels it. As for the skiing, they might as well call it “Big Rock.” I’m gonna have to buy a new pair of boards after this trip. But better the boards than my body, my salesman taught me that, sure he wants to move more product, but he was right. Stuff you can buy can be replaced. People? Not so much.

So I’ve got to tell you about this place we had dinner at in Bozeman, the Desert Rose.

Actually, it was in Belgrade, that’s what the owner told us. She’s a refugee from Minnesota. She teaches reading in addition. It’s hard to make it in the hinterlands and everybody’s trying to get ahead.

That’s right, most people I’ve run into are immigrants. They were sick of the city, they wanted some space to spread out, where no one was gonna interfere. And at Big Sky, no one does. The Headwaters lift is open despite most of the runs consisting of rocks.

Anyway, I remember the last time I was in this neck of the woods. Right after I’d graduated from college. I stopped in a roadside restaurant and had a slice of roast beef so tough I’ve never forgotten it. But hipster food has now made it to Montana. The Desert Rose had four types of vinaigrette dressing. And no door for the crapper.

You don’t see that in the city.

I’m taking a pee and right next to me is a guy on the throne. Well, he was behind a small wall, but there was no door in sight. And this was not a one person bathroom, there were multiple urinals.

So some things in the country still remain.

As for the hang…

These guys all know each other, from snowboarding, from New Jersey, I’m a latecomer and they are welcoming but I wonder to what degree I fit in. I can talk sports, cars and music. But at this point in my life I’d prefer to read a book.

Not that I’m judging. I don’t know what life is about anymore. These guys talk about going to the club, dropping in on each other to play music and hang, and I wonder if I made a wrong turn somewhere and missed my life.

Life. I was told it’s about achievement.

I’m learning I may be wrong.

Turns out if you’ve got a job that pays the bills and a house and a family you’ve made it in America. It’s about the good times.

Not that these guys are poor. Wall Street pays well. But they work hard. One guy has to be in the office at 7:05 and doesn’t leave until 5. Well, that was at the name brand firm that he just left behind. And another one who doesn’t have to work told me has no passion for the job he does, but he’s got to do something.

And that makes me feel good about the path I’ve taken. When it comes to work. But all that sacrificing, was it worth it?

I’m not sure.

So I’m getting a glimpse into other people’s lives. And instead of feeling superior, I’m feeling inferior.

But not when it comes to skiing.

It takes about twenty days to get that edge. In a row. When you can ski the double diamonds and survive. And the funny thing is you know when to go, you’re spontaneously motivated to challenge yourself.

But until I get that feeling, I try to hold back.

But it’s so hard.

Because of the pressure.

Because of the testosterone.

“Skiing Big Sky – Marx with GoPro 2012”
This video was shot three years ago when they actually had snow. If I had a GoPro you’d have seen tons of rocks and a traverse so hairy it deserves its own double diamonds.  Furthermore, today the bumps were bigger. But you’ll get the idea…

Marx Run (not me, not today, but it’ll give you an idea of the steepness)

Marx is the slope just to the left of all those rocks at the top in the pic. Once again, it looks like nothing today. Today there are…ROCKS!

“Big Sky’s Scariest Slopes”

“Top 5 Ski Runs At Big Sky Resort”

Desert Rose Restaurant & Catering

NO MASHUPS

Everybody hates them, we’ve got to make the show special in other ways.

SUPERSTAR HOST

Elton John. He hosts the show next year. He comes out, does “Your Song,” a two minute monologue and then interstitial stuff where he’s catty and funny and himself all at the same time. He gets to sit in with one or two performers, like he did fifteen years ago with Eminem, and the finale is every star known to man doing “Bennie and the Jets.”

Every year there’s a new star host. So instead of debating who’s gonna play the Super Bowl, everybody’s going to be talking about who is hosting the Grammys. It will build excitement.

NOMINATED SONGS ONLY

You only get to sing a song that’s nominated. And we’re going to have songs that are not only pop. We’re gonna broaden the audience’s horizons.

PUBLIC INVOLVEMENT

The show must be simulcast across the country. Have a little self-respect.

And then we have the public vote on two awards. Don’t complain, the Grammys are meaningless, who cares if the public gets to choose.

Like our country brethren, who anoint the Entertainer of the Year, we’re going to anoint the Performer of the Year.

FURTHERMORE, everybody nominated in this category is going to perform on the show. And we won’t announce the winner until the very end, which is gonna force everybody to stay tuned in to find out who wins. And since there’s no tape delay for time zones, there’s no way to find out the winner in advance.

And the public is going to pick Best New Artist too, a category that’s been so bastardized, no one can understand it. Let the people decide who’s new and who deserves the award.

MORE AWARDS

I’d say to eliminate dozens of awards, I’d go down to twelve and give away all of these on TV. That’s right, all you performers winning in categories that almost no one cares about, you don’t get to take home a trophy. That’s right, non-grossing films don’t get to win an Oscar unless they can hold their own against the big boys in the big categories. Theoretically, we can expand the Record of the Year category, but that just muddies the water. Either you’re a winner or you’re not. That’s what’s wrong with our society, we give losers trophies for participating in soccer and we give performers Grammys for music that has almost no audience. Bitch away, the truth hurts.

CONCLUSION

We’ve got to add credibility to the show. How can you respect a show that features performers that are not nominated that is not simulcast that has a sideshow that gives away a hundred awards?

This is how we get people excited about music again. By making the show credible and watchable. By getting them involved.

It’s a start.

I twisted my ankle getting on the plane.

It was my fault. Everything’s my fault. Felice says I’m impatient. I travel heavy, and when there was a backup on the gateway, execs checking their carry-ons because they won’t fit on this tiny plane, I swerved to the left and little did I know there was a drop-off. Why don’t they make the gateway flat from side to side? So, my ankle crumpled and I felt the pain and I wondered what was up with me, with this ski season, it’s endless injuries, I’m feeling my age and it doesn’t feel good.

It’s not horrible. The pain is not sharp. But I’m depressed and angry and not only about my body. The weird thing about getting old is time runs out. You realize you’re never gonna accomplish so much. On some level this is freeing, assuming your bank account is deep enough to carry you through. I now understand retirement. You get old enough and you realize the rat race is just that, an endless, meaningless dash. And you realize it’s all about lifestyle and experiences, and none of us are gonna last or be remembered, it’s all gonna be buried by the sands of time.

Now I’m in Bozeman for a guys’ trip. I’m not much of a bro, I’m more of a loner or a listener to the women. And I haven’t been to Montana since 1974, after graduating from college, when I snuck back into Yellowstone on my way out west. Yes, most of the national park is in Wyoming, but a tiny smidge is in Montana. Which makes it the only time I’ve ever been here.

And there’s nothing here. Just wide open spaces. Big Sky Country as Chris Whitley so eloquently sang.

So I’m staring out the window, taking it all in, the mountains look so different up here, they’re these spines/ridges. I don’t know much about geography, but I haven’t seen stuff like this before.

And then I think back, to my youth, when I was itinerant, when I lived in Utah, it was so different!

You didn’t go anywhere! Airplane trips were long and expensive. No one traveled on a whim, not even the rich. And there was no internet and long distance was expensive so when you were off the grid, you were truly off the grid.

No one’s off the grid anymore. Everybody’s reachable, Googlable. And if you’re not connected, you’re a social outcast. Everyone expects to reach you instantly. That’s what the entertainment industry doesn’t understand with its windows and restrictions, they enrage us, we’ve got no tolerance for them.

But there was serenity in being off the grid. You could revel in your own personality and life. No one built a shrine to themselves on social media, there was no social media. Reporting was what you did over a beer at the bar with your buddies, or in the once a week or so when you called your parents collect and they called you back (didn’t the phone company ever wise up to this?) Social was one on one and no one thought twice about reading a book.

Now I’m not saying the future is not advantageous. I love being able to go cheaply anywhere. However I hate that everybody carries their life’s belongings on the plane to beat the baggage charge. Are people just cheap or are they really financially-challenged?

But something is lost in every revolution. And in this case it’s solitude and reflection.

Flying in over the Bitterroots I was reminded of that two years in Utah, of living in Vermont, going to college. When internal was everything. When I experienced new things and reveled over them privately, storing them up to share maybe decades later, if at all.

And the truth is no one cares about anyone. Everybody’s narcissistic. Or if they’re tuned-in, they want some reward for it. We’re all alone. The fact we can communicate is staggering. Ever wonder if someone feels like you do? How do you even tell them how you feel? Flying over barren land, seeing giant snowcapped mountains jutting up?

Not even 50,000 people live in Bozeman. The airport is new and civilized. Everybody on the plane was wearing boots, no one was dressed up for the occasion. This is the hinterlands.

Makes me want to move to the hinterlands.

Only the hinterlands are just like L.A. today. With Amazon, FedEx and wireless reaching everywhere.

But I did buy a book on my iPhone before we took off!

However, the reward is in socialization, and I’m hooking up with my homeys, some old, some new. The connection will enhance my mood.

We’re all looking to enhance our mood.