The Bulging Right Pocket

It was one of the worst periods of time in my life.

Recently separated, I had just lost custody of my 2 daughters andwas forced to vacate my newly-renovated home (with 3 days notice)that contained the well-equipped recording studio I had spent 2years building prior to selling my drycleaning business (in order tobuild a long-desired music production company).

Divorce - Canadian style!

Two years before, I discovered that a *friend*, a music contact I hadworked with and even spent time with in Hollywood a decade prior,had stolen a song that I and my music partner had written andpresented to this budding writer/producer at that time. He had sincebecome a major player in the music business and had lifted *somuch* our song, placing it on the album of a multi-million sellingfemale artist.

After much consideration and consultation with a prominent Detroitattorney, we decided to proceed with a lawsuit against this recordproducer. And, as these matters usually go, we had to retain highprofile legal representation in California and also sue the 'innocents',in this case the recording artist, record company and publishingcompany, with the hope (at least mine) that they would bringpressure upon the sole guilty party to get a just settlement.

And of course, I was counter sued for over a million dollars and hadto begin dealing with that ugly business.

Now, living with friends during this confusing, dark period of time, acall came from my California attorney. I was forced to confront theinevitable - a trip to Los Angeles for a legal hearing.

I had neither the heart nor the will to follow through with this.Neither did I have the money for the flight and hotel as all myassets had been frozen by the divorce court at the time.

I recall, as if it were yesterday, how Doug somehow sensed myemotional turmoil and just matter-of-factly told me to pick up theairline ticket at the terminal and then invited me to stay with hisfamily. This is where the real story begins.

Immediately after meeting Doug in person for the first time at theairport on a Friday afternoon, I felt so unusually comfortable. Thehearing was on Monday but he had no intention of discussing thecase at all on the drive to his home. Instead we talked about ourfamilies, friends, careers and hobbies. His was mountain climbingand he has since scaled the tallest peaks on the continent!

He told me about how much his wife and daughter were lookingforward to having me stay with them. And, that he had planned get-togethers with some of his rather famous friends. See, we had builta rather unique friendship over the phone during the time building upto this hearing, but I had no idea Doug would be going all out duringour short visit.

I arrived at his beautiful home in the Hollywood Hills to the warmhugs of Doug's wonderful wife and cuter-than-cute little daughter. Ifyou've ever visited someone's home for the very first time andimmediately, and truly felt right at home, well, this was one of thoserare instances. Mi casa es su casa.

All of us had a great amount of fun getting to know one anotherand, as promised, we had most enjoyable Friday and Saturdayevenings with Doug's crazy but wonderful friends in theentertainment world. After all, I was in my element

Sunday night was sleepless however. Although I was very confidentin Doug and his abilities (I'd love to be able to tell you who he hasrepresented in the past but the terms of the ultimate settlement inthis action prohibit me from sharing any details that would identifyany of the parties involved), I was still very concerned about being incourt with 4 sets of high-powered attorneys against, well, just meand Doug. Rumor had it that the defendant's father, a very highprofile attorney from a major U.S. city, was also flying in for theshowdown.

On the drive to downtown LA on Monday morning, we finally begandiscussing the case. Doug had put my mind at as much ease aspossible as we headed toward the magnificent skyline. If you'veever seen the skyscrapers of Los Angeles in person or in movies,you will surely remember the tall, white, rounded building in thecenter. Doug's office was near the top floor.

He didn't park anywhere near it however. He pulled into this pay-per-day lot in a less than fashionable neighborhood many blocksaway. Strange. Homeless people populated the streets. We startedthe long trek towards the ivory tower but suddenly Doug stopped tospeak to an old man with a wind-weathered face, crouched againsta building clutching a "mickey" of cheap "Thunderbird" wine in hisdirty, gnarled hands. He simply asked this poor soul how he wasdoing and if he had anything to eat recently. The reply wasincoherent and Doug just smiled and handed him 2 one-dollar bills.We walked onward.

As he repeated this gesture along our long route, even walking halfa block out of our way to greet and hand yet another homelessperson a couple of bucks, I noticed Doug's right pocket was bulgingwith what could only be one dollar bills. I didn't ask him about thisritual, preferring to know that Doug just did this 2-buck thing everyday.

Finally, and as if in another world altogether, we entered thisstunning building and were soon going over the infinite details of ourcase in his impressive office.

Suffice it to say although this case was settled somewhatsatisfactorily in the end run, this initial hearing did not go well. Afterthe hearing and while Doug was in chambers with the judge andprinciple lawyers trying to negotiate a fair settlement, the otherparticipants/all on the other side (some came with an entourage)gathered into the hallway. I made my way to each one of them andoffered my apologies for having to have them and their clientsinvolved. They all accepted. Even the defendant's high-poweredfather was understanding and exceptionally cordial. We startedchatting about sports and he even made some off-the-recordremarks about his arrogant offspring.

While this conversation was taking place, a loud voice angrilybounced off the marble walls, "So dad, you switching sides now? "My former musical friend was now in the hall, obviously witnessinghis dad and myself acting civilly. I walked over and with a simplegesture of peace, offered my hand to him. It was readily andviolently slapped away.

I am what I feel most would say, a peace-loving, passive humanbeing. But having the physical sting of an assault like this broughtthe instinctual animal out in me, to defend, and I began to reactaccordingly . . . good thing for Dad who rushed to the scene andushered his son back into the courtroom.

Doug soon emerged with the bad news that anything approximatinga fair settlement was not going to happen this day. Thatdisappointed me,but didn't seem to surprise my esteemed lawyer, as he assured methat we would need to apply more pressure in due course. Not anice business.

After our *tough day at the office*, Doug was soon digging back intohis right pocket on our way back to the parking lot, even placingcurrency into the hands of some of the same indigents. I then cameto the conclusion that they weren't all strangers.

We pulled in to get some gas just around the corner from theparking lot and were standing at the pumps when a disheveledfellow approached us. This time it was me who engaged him inconversation. He was a Vietnam veteran with a severe chip on hisshoulder and he seemed to be glad just to have someone to listen.

As if by magic, penniless me turned to Doug, who, with a big smilehad his arm outstretched with 2 dollar bills just dangling for me totake.

My thoughts immediately ran back to several months before when Iencountered a homeless man begging on the downtown Detroitstreet that led to the tunnel to Canada when I was returning homefrom a meeting with my Michigan attorney. I had a few U.S. dollarsin my pocket and handed them to this man, but, with the following,loudly spoken condition: "this is for food, not booze!"

But, this was not the way Doug gave - he gave as Giving shouldalways be - without condition. So, into the hand of this man wentmy 2 bucks along with my most sincere wish - "Good Luck!" Hehobbled away, mumbling to himself.

Doug and I have remained friends over the years. We exchangeemail and he sends me a Christmas card every year as well as hisarticles that have been published in the top law journals.

His giving though, went well beyond helping those souls on thestreet.

In the end, and with the final decision left totally to me, we made asettlement agreement that would not even come close tocompensating me and my music partner for having created a songthat was a vital part of such a successful, worldwide recordingproject, and he, for ALL his time, effort and expertise in trying to getjustice for me and my music partner. In Doug's heart-of-hearts, heknew it would simply end the great stress that this caserepresented for me at this totally tumultuous period of time. Andthat was good enough for him.

I've never made mention to Doug of our long walk to and from theoffice in all this time but I fully suspect he still leaves home eachday with a pocketful of one dollar bills, parks far from his office sothat he can bring a little joy into the lives of the less fortunate, and,takes on clients that are in the same position as I was a decadeago.

In other words Giving - as Giving should always be.

© Rick Beneteau

Rick is co-creator of the breakthrough Make Every Day A GreatDay Program. Read the powerful, life-changing testimonialsand discover how this revolutionary product can dramaticallychange Your Life too!:http://www.MakeEveryDayAGreatDay.com/yes