The seminars I get asked to speak at are getting stranger and stranger. Two weeks ago it was new federal rules (including e-discovery) at the Texas Association of Defense Counsel's seminar in Santa Fe (I'm a career TTLA member, so that's a little like Texas Democratic Women having Karl Rove over for a little chat) and this weekend it was a panel on intellectual property as a new frontier in divorce law for the State Bar of Texas Family Law Section's annual advanced family law seminar.
Fortunately it was at the Peabody Hotel (yes, the one with the ducks - my wife Jamie and I duck-watched and bought the t-shirts for our three boys). We also took the trip to Elvis' home Graceland (pictured) which was, I have to say, totally lacking in anything tacky. Yes, you heard me right - the outside remains solidly Southern classical (which I didn't expect - I thought there were fiberglass guitars glued to the facade for some reason), and while the inside decor is pretty solidly rooted in the early 1970's, I'll admit, it never veers into what you can really call bad taste, as opposed to outdated taste. I saw far worse interiors growing up in the 1970's, and I'm not just talking the Brady Bunch. Elvis' 707 jet Lisa Marie is actually arguably more tastefully done on the inside (outside's not remotely the class act that Raymond Loewy did for President Kennedy) than the Air Force One at the Reagan Library that we saw last summer (POTUS doesn't get gold-plated seat belt buckles). I couldn't even find anything tacky in the (official) gift shops - everything was tasteful. Maybe the fat Elvis stuff was across the street, but we didn't have time to check. (One caveat - having your family buried about six feet from your swimming pool is just plain weird). The whole thing is very much like a pop version of the Thomas Jefferson experience at Monticello, of which I am just about the most avid member there is, so I'm not saying there's anything wrong with that by any means, but it was a little interesting riff on the cult of personality that we see at presidential museums and ... well, Mickey's house in Cartoonland at Disneyland.
(See my three boys with MM last summer. It was my wife's favorite picture of the trip because Mickey's office, where he sees visitors is air conditioned to about 45 degrees, which is almost as cold as she likes it. Why yes, we put leashes on our kids - why do you ask?)
But I digress. For the seminar, our panel chair Warren Cole (who's also on the State Bar board of directors with me) put together a paper with our input giving attendees an overview of patent, copyright and trademark law (the latter two courtesy of Houston copyright guru David Showalter) and then discussed the various classification and valuation issues that come up. We then had a 2 1/4 hour panel discussion on the various issues that intellectual property presents in the divorce context, including how to determine if it's there, how it is characterized (community or separate) and how you value it and manage it. From the patent practitioner's perspective, it seemed to me that some patent holding companies might be interested in providing consulting (valuation) and possibly management services for patents that are stuck in the middle of a divorce. As you might expect, the parties to a divorce and their lawyers are perhaps not the best people to try to figure out what a particular piece of IP is worth, especially with the value changing daily with new cases from the Federal Circuit making major changes in the standards for validity and value of patents. There was a really enjoyable discussion about business method patents, for example (primarily the possibility that legal strategies might be patentable, which some panel members took and ran with in the family law context) but I suggested that any business method patent jokes might soon become pretty dated so better laugh now while they still arguably exist.
A very good and a very enjoyable seminar, and hopefully my wife didn't pick up anyone's business cards. I highly recommend both the Peabody's non-French restaurant Capriccio (Italian steakhouse) and Automatic Slim's (nouveau Carribbean, whatever the hell that is) acros the street. The latter even serves duck if you're sick of the ducks marching bit. But they wouldn't tell me where they get it from.