Phil Spector II's losing me

okay I admit it the Spector trial has even kind of lost me. I dragged myself downstairs to the 9th floor yesterday out of a sense of duty? and sat for a dull twenty minutes as the DA Jackson questioned one of his witnesses - (the photographer who later on had a car accident and had to have reconstructive surgery on her face) This is the woman who Phil pulled a gun on (allegedly) at the Carlyle Hotel in NYC after some big music biz function because she wanted to go to sleep and Phil wanted to play which pissed Phil off. Why should he pay for her room? (a few years ago my 85 year old father also got pissed off too when he paid for this lady's trip up to the Catskills for a singles weekend and she wouldn't play - he sued her for his expenses. The People's Court wanted to do the case but Pop didn't want to be on TV Now that would've been a helluva case on TV).

UPCOMING SHOW AT THE MBAR NOV 16, 2008

YouTube - Murray Meyer's Its Criminal
these are excerpts from my show - It's Criminal - getting people off & other legal fantasies, an idiosyncratic travelogue through our criminal justice system
see the entire show - MBAR - Fountain & Vine in Hollywood, 7PM, Sunday, Nov 16, 2008 call the club for reservations - 323 856 0036

phil spector II - talk about a mesheguna

Dorothy Melvin, Joan Rivers manager, testifies about the incident in 1993 when Phillip hit her with a gun and pulled a shotgun on her.  Then Phillip, ever the legal strategist, follows up with a voice message - "call us we'd love to hear from you."   

Phillip wasn't even a boyfriend though she did have a "physical" relationship "on rare occasions" - think the defense lawyer Weinberg once even used the word "sex".  Phillip was "insane" but also a "charmer and "a genious", according to Ms. Melvyn, who seemed very eager to share her experiences as much as she declared loudly how she didn't want to.  

PHIL SPECTOR II - Christmas with Joan Rivers

Phillip and his lawyers wearily stand up when the jury come & go. I can't help but note how hunched over Phillip is - like he's in prayer.  

There's an aura of threadbareness about this trial.  Not well attended - when I get there I thought maybe it had been postponed again.  Phil doesn't even have the same number of bodyguards like at that first trial - now he's down to one skinny guy in a black suit - there were at least four burly guys last year. This is like an off-broadway play that's getting no audience but the producer's have plenty of money so it's going to go on despite the poor box office.  Is there no interest cause Phil's just a famous producer?  That's been theorized by some (actually only Beth Lapides) But I'm not buying it.  What if it was Spielberg?  Or Steve Jobs?  or Warren Buffett? There's something else going on.  This trial is too good for the masses.  Too nuanced.   That's right.  Too nuanced.  I said it and I'll say it again.  

I watched the cross by the defense guy Weinberg (very much with the attitude of "hey we're all adults here) of the ex New York Detective. Tanazzo with a thick New York accent who supposedly heard Phil say something about all women needing a bullet in their head about 10 or was it 20 years ago at a party for Joan Rivers.  A Christmas party yet.   The frustrated Detective when Weinberg presses about the year this happened in -.  "Counselor! (that condescending "counselor" that all cops use everywhere but New York cops do it best)  I worked the Christmas parties okay?"  

Why isn't the Phil Spector II trial a hit?

After I finish off my own case (that is, as a lawyer) I go down to dept 106, the courtroom where the trial's taking place, to sit in on the opening arguments.  But they're not letting anybody into the courtroom because its filled up.  I could wait outside for someone to come out, but what's the point?  It's not like it was when I was waiting outside the WGA on Doheny during Yom Kippur services where I was also forced to wait cause they were all filled up (of course the WGA holds about 1,000 seats compared to the courtroom's 40) Free services on Yom Kippur - now that's a deal!  But at a Yom Kippur service you know people aren't staying for the whole show and they'll be coming and going.  (a theological query - do you get credit for the time standing outside waiting for the doors to open? and if so - as much as being inside?)

But this Spector trial is a situation where nobody's going to come out during the opening statements, I know that. 

A Superior Court worker who was also locked out told me that there's no camera in the courtroom - not because of objections from the lawyers but because nobody - that is nobody in the media - gives a shit - nobody has even asked.  (and now I just learn that there is no longer Court TV? - what is going on with the world?)  I just don't get it.  This trial's got everything.  First the crime itself is fascinating.   Was it murder?  Was it an accident?  Was it suicide?  I know everybody thinks the guy did it but there's evidence to suggest all of the above.  The victim, a beautiful, sexy woman; the defendant, a wealthy, eccentric, music business legend. Ok it's not OJ the Original but what is?  Certainly not Greta's and Nancy's current crop.  Okay I'll submit it on that.   

VISITING THE JAIL UP IN WAYSIDE a tale of woe

It could have been a breeze to visit my client in Wayside which is a part of the County Jail system.  That was the plan.  Leave first thing in the morning from the west side of Los Angeles and zip up the 405 - if I hit it right - there I am - at the Peter Pitchess Honor Rancho aka Wayside, aka, County Jail, in Castaic, maybe 45 minutes later. But it turns out to be not a breeze.  And it's all my fault.  

I figured I'd whizz down south on the 405 to Long Beach court house first just to drop off some paperwork.  And then whizz back up the 405 to hit Wayside.  Things started to slow down when the clogged traffic makes me decide to go look for someplace to eat breakfast and I get off the freeway and go wondering around Manhattan Beach.  The problem is I don't know where to eat breakfast in Manhattan Beach - I'm not going to Denny's no matter what - by the time I get back on the 405 south, I'm hungry and already way behind in my plan. 

Of course by the time I get to Long Beach I've gotta find someplace to eat breakfast there don't I?  And I gotta get the New York Times, don't I?  What am I supposed to read at breakfast.  But Borders doesn't have the NY Times - there's a big problem with NY Times distribution in Long Beach (that's too big an issue to go into right now) so I get the Wall Street Journal which is actually always a good move and well now I might as well get a latte. 

After dropping the paper work off at court (my fee dec if you gotta know) I'm back up on the 405 north.  

Now I'm flying but as I'm getting over the hill and nearing Ventura Boulevard I note that it's 11:30am.  Goddammit! MIGHT AS WELL GO FOR LUNCH.  I was going to wait till after I saw my guy - as a reward - but I'll be honest - I have a problem with this gratification delay thing- always have - AND - for some reason I'm kind of sleepy.  I've got no choice.  

I pull off the freeway and drive east on Ventura Boulevard hoping to spot Art's Deli or something good.  BUT there's alot of construction work on the Boulevard and traffic isn't moving, so I park. I walked and walked and it's hot - this is the Valley - it's over 90.  There's a Borders and yeah baby, I got my NY TIMES.  Across the street there's a place shouting out to me - it's called "HAMLET" - whatamigonnado?  I get a burger.  No fries.
By the time I get to NCCF it's 230pm.  
I wait in front of the glass for 15 solid minutes while the deputy inputs something –and loudly ignores me.  I'm not saying a word.  Who am I to kvetch about waiting.  
The drive back I never stopped once even for a snack - the traffic was too good.

Oh I did visit my guy.  It was nice.  

Here's why I'm not a PEOPLE PERSON

Sometimes you start off with the best of intentions – you’re going to be a people person – you're going to give all the loving you can like everyone is going to die at midnight (the advice that the Rev Earl gave to W when W got born again and saved - according to O Stone). That’s just what I was trying to do yesterday morning at court in Long Beach. As I stood outside of Dept 10, I could sense that someone needed me, needed my love and I was ready. A young black woman – age 18-25, stood in front of me and asked "where's SO 7". Even if she didn’t actually use the word "please" I wasn't going to hold it against her. Because I was there to give all the love I could. I knew what "SO" was – that’s the building we were in - easy. We were right across from SO 10 – I quickly realized that. I knew that SO 6 was down at the other end of the floor. I knew where SO 9 was; I knew where SO 8 was, but 7, SO 7, just rang no bell in my brain. I was mulling it over when she spit it out – “You don’t have to waste my time, just say you don't know.” And she walked away down the hall. Wow. All I wanted was to give the love and a body blow first thing in the morning.
And now I’m remembering I know 7; I’ve been in 7; it’s the misdemeanor court down the hall.
By the time I got to my preliminary hearing, I was already bummed out. The DA is a friendly, collegial tone asks me to waive the preliminary hearing (she didn't say but I knew the reason was it was going to take a couple of days and she had other stuff to do). I was all outa love by then. "Are you kidding? You yell when I’m not ready for the prelim (I'd been in trial a couple of times when the prelim hearing had been scheduled and had to ask for postponements) and now you want me to waive it? No." She's offended. “I never screamed at you." And she was right She never did. But how was she to know that I hear "anger" as a scream – it goes back to my mother. I did realize this but things had gone so far to the toilet already with my one selfless act of love already rejected that it was too late to turn this ship I call "me" around and be a human being. And so yet again I learn a lesson in life.