As the Rolling Stones began their tour while welching on the more than quarter of a million dollar deal they made with my Friend, I started this e-Blogazine journal to document some of my experience of the fallout, and to create a forum for discussion and resources to reform the Music Industry. May Artists, Musicians, and Free People everywhere find it useful.
Got Something to say? Are You a Musician, Artist, or Person with an opinion about the Music industry, music downloads, contracts or royalties? Are You concerned about the RIAA and other industries' assault on our cyber-Freedoms? Copyright and Intellectual Property law? Well?
This site is our Music, played on a virtual sidewalk. This button is our hat in front of us. If You dig the Vibe, toss in a few coins so we live. Thanks.
Anyway Delene came in as the Trooper was trying to get Mike's attention without much success. He was able to get him to pause (by banging the receiver on the table again) long enough to tell him that she had just come in, but that he would not put her on the phone because here hands were full (they were) and that she would call him when she got situated.
Decaro continued to ramble on. The State Trooper was very patient, but he did tell Mike that his patience was wearing thin, and that he had been nice so far, but soon would run out. Relentlessly, Mike (who likes to call himself "Mick" --I guess because it likens him to another Mick (Sir Mick) ) blathered on. Trott had taken him off the speakerphone and was attempting to reason with him. Occasionally, he would pull the phone away from his ear, roll his eyes, and have short conversations with Delene and I.
Finally, out of patience, he said so.
Repeatedly.
Finally, he got Mick to agree not to call again (a 10th time) that nite, and to hang up.
Then Delene and I explained the situation to him, and why I felt obligated to call him to our home for his assistance in dealing with this arrogant heedless putz.
