Posted tagged ‘autographs’

Sign here

August 16, 2012

Have you ever chased someone down the street to try and get their autograph? Have you waited hours in the rain for the chance to get a star to scribble on your wet notebook? What is the script with these Autograph hunters that stake out their big game just to get a signature? It bewilders me the waste of time spent on a goose chase to capture a C-lister at best. I mean there’s not many of us that could get close to Beckham, Bieber or Boris, now is there?

Even more crazy are the collectors that buy autographs from memorabilia sources. What is the point of this? Even if the signing is genuine there is no glory for the recipient. The inscription is second hand and hasn’t been recorded “live”. There is a remote chance that Elvis is still alive but all copies of his writings were noted (more…)


If only I had Coppola’s lens

November 14, 2011

It’s easy to blame Twitter for everything so I won’t. It’s all mobile phones’ fault. Mobiles that take photographs have contributed to the dying art of philography.

Most of the young upcoming stars of music, film and TV can barely write their name. They don’t need to. Nobody is interested in autographs anymore. Yes, there are still the die-hard collectors out there but they’re in the minority. It’s more rewarding to get a snapshot of the celebrity. Even better if the star agrees to have you in the picture.
Lately, I’ve came across some crashing bores that boast of their conquests-

· This is me with Madonna
· I’m in the middle of Nicole and Tom from when they were an item
· Shaq’s not so big. Look I’m up to his shoulders

The days of the big game autograph hunter are numbered. What use is a Richard Widmark scribble when your friend has a photo of himself having a scramble with Beyonce? Mama, put my pens in the ground, I don’t need them anymore.

As a non-mobile phone user I arm myself with a camera that I found in a drawer. My quest is to take a picture of me with a big star. I wanted to be known as the next Peter Parker. I wandered the alleys and highways looking for my big break. So far, my scoop had eluded me. I ended up in a dingy public house on the outskirts of town. To my disbelief the place was empty save for two men sitting at a table in the corner.

It was Robert De Niro and Al Pacino.

I go over and we shoot the breeze. Jack Nicholson’s a phoney, I say. Bobby and Al agree. How about a three amigos shot, I ask. Certamente, says Al. I don’t know if he’s calling me Shirley or not, it doesn’t matter. I call the barman over to take the shot.
Ok, here we go, wait until the five-a-side team sees this.

“It’s not working there’s no batteries in this…thing” says the barman.
The two hoods are displeased. Before I get whacked, I’m outta there in a flash.

Just for CI. A smouldering Bardot or Bardo, whatever.