New York stories: Elton to write, me to stop

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It helps, of course, that he has so much first-hand material to delve into. Apparently, the show, to be called Him and Us, will not strictly be about John himself or exactly about any of his grey-haired peers. But watch out for hints of Rod, Mick and Paul.

He will have the support of his long-time partner, David Furnish, who is a film producer. It seems apt that as the two of them prepare to take advantage of new British laws and be joined in same-sex marriage this December, they should share some of the same career credentials.

Of course, Him and Us, inspired by a song of the same name on John's latest album, Peachtree Road, may be an embarrassing flop. So far ABC has agreed to make just a pilot. But the development team is good, including Sex and the City scriptwriter Cindy Chupack and Michael Edelstein, executive producer of Desperate Housewives.

So I will be knocking on doors tomorrow. I'm thinking NBC or maybe HBO, which is more hip. My sitcom can be as funny as John's, surely. You can guess the theme - the daily dramas of an ageing journalist, his editor and his assorted anonymous sources.

I know that in terms of comic value, Mick Jagger may seem like a richer seam than Judith Miller. She is the reporter who went to jail for refusing to land Lewis Libby in trouble in the CIA leak affair. But, let's face it, there are possibilities. The villain on crutches - sorry, alleged villain - Lewis Libby. The prosecutor hero, Patrick Fitzgerald. The scenes in the editorial suite of The New York Times will be priceless.

This is America. I'm done with reporting. Hell, a private lawyer who has never sat in judgment in a courtroom in her life can suddenly be nominated to be a Justice on the Supreme Court. Come to think of it, perhaps the Harriet Miers model isn't such a good one.

No dice, Damon

I had my second interview disaster last week. The first was when I was commissioned to profile a famous photographer. I prefaced our discussion with a confession that I knew nothing about her work. Before I could even find the "record" button, she had thrown me out. Last week I was meant to spend a day with the hip-hop mogul Damon Dash. That didn't work out, either. The PR person from London seemed unable to pin him down on a time for us to meet. I went to a party for a new line of luxury watches that he is launching but the place was packed. I wasn't sure which one was Dash or what the PR woman looked like. And nor she me. Another bust.

I'm outta here

I am away this week, so will be missing Prince Charles and Camilla in New York. It might have been fun, especially the Tuesday night party at the Museum of Modern Art, where, I am told, guests will include members of the media. Somehow, I was never invited. Which is why I am leaving town. I have my pride.