The Pitch

A kind and very brave writer who I respect immensely gave my first story a once over. He didn't mention giving up his dinner after reading it. So, I guess it is safe for human consumption.

Have you ever written something and then wondered why it seems like déjà vu all over again?

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John sat behind the desk in his executive office at ACME Record Company anxious to hear his new writing talent pitch his new song. Signing him to a salaried contract came at a great risk especially with the bonus that came with its inking. Songwriters are a dime a dozen, but the young man had already penned a monster hit as an independent. No guts, no glory. How much of John's guts spill out remains to be seen. The writer started his pitch.

"My new song is very personal to me. It's about the breakup with my wife. She was from the influential Thorne family. Her name was Rosemary as were all the other girls in the family. It's similar to all the male kids being named Nicholas in the movie 'My Big Fat Greek Wedding', except for the Greek thing."

"That's sad. What happened?"

"It was a firestorm relationship, full of love and passion. Unfortunately, the flame burned out. We just drifted apart. Why? Who knows? I guess there wasn't enough fuel to keep the fires going. We both knew it but neither did anything about it. We just went through the motions. Some say the opposite of love is hate. From what happened to me, it's uncaring.

"When I went to end the marriage with Rose, that's what I called her it was too late. She already moved on. I found her in bed with Dawn, her Sorority Sister.

"Finding them together didn't upset me. To be truthful, it was pretty hot. Seeing two women munching carpet on top of the covers gets the blood rushing to the right parts. Besides, Dawn's got a great butt. I wouldn't mind tapping ..."

John interrupted, "Got it. How about we get back to the song?"

"Oh yeah, anyway, I left home taking my guitar and dog with me. He was mine before we married. The divorce went quickly with me getting some coin from the prenup. They pretty much paid me just to go away.

"I hooked up with a regional band as a singer-songwriter with whom I wrote their breakout hit. Being on the road for a few days at a time, I needed to put the dog in a kennel. He wasn't happy there. What made it tolerable for him was the staff would give him a large soup bone. He could gnaw on that for days on end. I remember one time ..."

John had to cut him off again. "I think I got the gist of the song. Do you have something for me to hear?"

"Sure! I recorded a demo. You want to play it?"

"Not yet. Can you play and sing the chorus? It would give me a feel for the song before diving into the rest."

With his acoustic guitar, he started playing the chords quite well. When he settled, he sang out the chorus:

"Every Thorne has its Rose.

And every Rose has her Dawn.

Every kennel gives a sad dog a bone.

Every Thorne has its Rose."

After the songwriter finished playing, he looked at the recording exec with pride. But, he couldn't figure out the dour expression on John's face.

Stunned, John asked, "Have you ever heard of the song 'Every Rose has its Thorn' by Poison?" The young man shook his head. "Well, the words and pacing in that song are almost identical to what you wrote."

Confused, the songwriter asked, "How can that be? The song I wrote hasn't been recorded let alone released."

"The song Poison recorded was certified Gold in 1988."

"Oh," the young man finally got it.

"Yeah, I don't think Brett Michaels would appreciate the similarities."

"Why would a sportscaster be upset with it? His Sunday night sports show wasn't bad, but the tape machine was lame."

"That's the 'George Michael Sports Machine.' Brett Michaels was a member of Poison who co-wrote the song. So, what else you got?" John was eager to change the subject and secretly hoped to salvage this pitch with a usable composition.

"Well, I have a 'love song' I am working on about an airline pilot who loves his wife so much it hurts to leave her when he does his Trans-Atlantic flights. I'm stuck between 'Leaving on a Jet Plane' and 'Time for Me to Fly" for the title. What do you think?"

The exec blew out a sigh, ran his fingers through his hair, and wearily stated, "I think we need to get you a lyrics writer."