When Alarcon wrote the opening Sunset Stalker some time ago, it was the hit of the season. Alarcon, being stalked by none other than 'Honorary Sir' Bono... The irony, of those who believe themselves stalkworthy, ending up joshing with us mortals...
We don't have those kind of encounters everyday, although within the past week there was the overt eye contact with the Gilmore Girl in Mexico City and then there was the Osbourne daughter on Rodeo Drive who, by her mere (fat-joke alert) presence, made us all feel more like we belonged. Stars do great things everyday!
Recently, I found myself on a very Shakespearian Winter's day, enduring a typically mid-winter Shakespearience in Stratford Upon Avon, in Warwickshire. Of course, there'd been the pound of flesh... Sausage and Mash at Garrick's, Stratford's oldest pub and thereafter, through the sort of icy fog that descended on Richard III's career, I photographed the very accommodating Swans, outside the Swan Theatre, (better trained for the lens these Royal Birds by far I think, than their Serpentine counterparts in London).
As you can imagine, it was shaping up nicely as a Universal Studios of the Midlands Experience. Then, just as I aimed the trusty Sony through the gloom at what appeared to be a bronze of the Bard on a concrete plinth, just as Wife X, said, "That'll never come out," just at that moment, appearing through the mist, in a flawless, long black overcoat, the actor best known globally as the Funeral, from Four Weddings and a Funeral, Simon Callow. He smiled as he passed by, just as Wife X reiterated, "That won't come out."
That smile... Surely he was thinking to himself, "I am so glad I am gay."
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