So you want to be a rock star? It's not all sex, drugs, and rock-and-roll. Sometimes it's suing your lender for foreclosing on your place in Hawaii.
That's the fate of Todd Rundgren. You'd never know from Judge Ikuta's opinion that we're dealing with a rock-and-roll legend; instead, she plays it straight, and never once mentions that the plaintiff is famous. But even if there's more than one Todd Rundgren in the world (and I doubt it), my money's heavily on there only being one of 'em married to a woman named Michelle. This is the rock star. As well as the unsuccessful appellant.
(You've heard his stuff, by the way, even if you're not deeply into 70's rockers. Here's I Saw The Light. Here's Hello It's Me. At least until Todd reads this and issues DCMA takedown requests. In meantime, have a glass of wine, kick back, and remember those halcyon days.)
As an additional aside, one great thing about looking up tangents regarding Ninth Circuit cases is that you sometimes learn fascinating things that you'd otherwise never know. For example, here, I knew (in the back of my mind somewhere) that actress Liv Tyler was the daughter of Aerosmith frontman Steve Tyler. But what I didn't know -- until now -- was that Liv Tyler's original name was actually Liv Rundgren. Liv was apparently conceived while her mother and Rundgren were together (with on-and-off periods), but the product of a dalliance with Tyler. Apparently Liv's mother knew that Tyler was the biological father, but named her Rundgren -- and listed Todd on the birth certificate -- in part to put some distance between her daughter and Tyler's drug-fueled ways.