Wild and crazy and whatever

Going to Broadway red carpets the last couple nights has given me a ton of photo opportunities, but it's put a serious cramp in my blogging, so let's take a step back in time to Tuesday and do a little catching up, m'kay?  Kate Hudson was at Good Morning America to promote another movie I won't see, and let me just say right now that GMA is getting to be a real nightmare.  The barricades are about three feet out from the window now, thanks to Damian climbing the windows to get a better vantage point (yeah, I'm not kidding....climbing the damn ledge of the window rather than bringing a stepladder LIKE THE REST OF THE PAPARAZZI DO you fat, lazy asshole!), and there's always a crowd of people in the studio, so good luck getting a decent shot of the guests through the window now.  This is the same paparazzo that will stalk Sarah Jessica Parker when she takes James Wilkie to school, so there's no love lost here.  Way to ruin it for everyone douche bag.  Suffice it to say, getting this shot was a bitch.  And since Kate walked straight from the stage door to her SUV without so much as a wave in the direction of the 10 people that were actually waiting for her boring ass, I'd say she's a bitch too.

Miguel, some Indian kid who's always there (I really need to start talking to people in the morning) and I raced to Rockefeller Center, hoping to catch Steve Martin leaving the Today Show.  Years ago when I lived in LA, Steve did a conversation with Carol Burnett at the Saban Theatre and they both signed books afterwards, but I was so Carol crazy that I didn't even think to snap a shot of him, so I figured this is my chance.  Rick was waiting when we got there, and thankfully Steve hadn't left yet.  The official NBC Today Show photographer, who used to be a paparazzi before going legit, came out and talked to the photographers, who abruptly left, and we started having doubts about whether Steve would leave through the 48th street exit or through the garage.  Rick and I went into the lobby, and then down the winding staircase toward the green room (and the Rockefeller Center underground shopping area, don't get excited, it's a public space) right past two ladies carrying garment bags and another lady that we didn't realize was Edie Brickell until it was too late.  I'm not aware of too many things, and one of them is what Edie Brickell looks like these days, so if Rick hadn't said anything I wouldn't have known because who the hell expects to run into Edie Brickell on the winding stairs at Rockefeller Plaza at 8:45 on a Tuesday morning when I should have been having coffee on my way to work?  Miguel and the Indian kid raced down the stairs behind us, and now instead of two discreet people being somewhere they probably shouldn't be there were four people and more commotion than necessary, but thankfully Miguel spotted Steve and we got back up stairs and outside before getting kicked out of the building even though we really weren't technically doing anything wrong officer.  Back on 48th street, we waited about five minutes and out came Steve in a jaunty fedora and lime green shirt and tie combo that would have blended beautifully into the rush hour commute if it weren't for those damn fans waiting at the door with cameras and pictures to autograph.  He was in a rush, but pleasant enough to sign a few autographs and look up so I could take this picture of his face and not just the top of his fedora.  Thanks Steve!