Of course, I have heroes I dream of being buddies with and yet I imagine they might view me as -- well, so Andy. The funny part is that Warhol was a stalker. Warhol was an artist who would shake the world. And later Andy would be shot by a stalker. That kind of symmetry feels like the refrain of a great song. It is the same words over and over but it has new meaning each time it appears. One person in the same scene but taking a different part each time it is played.

A lover, an artist and a madman are really the same. Filled with an unreasonable passion. Driven to do things that are beyond words and the perfect material for a comedy or the nightly news.

I can't help but wonder if my own words will someday be read by someone who is thrilled by them. They will speak as if they came from their own heart and they will know something special has just happened. Or my words may make a grand best seller. Perhaps they will end up as exhibit A -- hopefully in a federal case. It so tough to know how it will end when your in the middle of it. But at least two of the possible outcomes involve movie rights.