I was a passenger in George Byrne’s car once. We were driving down Santa Monica Blvd when he very suddenly made a sharp left and abruptly threw his hazards lights on. With the car still running with it’s back jutting out into the street like a blind grandmother had parked it, he jumped out and ran into the middle of Santa Monica Blvd with his camera, snapping away. Barefoot, he ran back to the car after the tenth angry beep of passers by. “What the fuck are you doing?” I asked him. “Did you see that shadow hitting the building? I had to pull over. The light was incredible”, he replied.