***Editor’s note: this article is purely satirical and in response to a Maui senator’s proposed law to enable celebrities to take civil action against the paparazzi or anyone harassing them in Hawaii (roughly speaking). That proposed law is called the Steven Tyler Act.

And no, Vanessa Wolf is not really with the paparazzi or stalking Steven Tyler.***

Dear Steven Tyler,

I have been stalking you for several months now. Well, “stalking” is maybe a bit strong.

Let me start over: I’m a huuuuuuuuuge fan.

Remember that photo of you playing the bongos on Big Beach in your underwear? That was me. I hoped you liked it. I Photoshopped your abs in case you were wondering. You’re welcome.

So anyway, I don’t want to come on too strong, but I heart you.

It’s more than that, though. It’s my giant paycheck.

Every time I run into you at TEDxMaui in circus pants and a roach clip and snap a whole bunch of pictures you weren’t expecting and in no way saw coming and were really gracious about, I see dollar signs and hear the “ka-ching” sound in my head.

So this proposed “Steven Tyler Act” – even though I love the name (Truly. I mean, what’s not to love?) – is freaking me out a little bit.

Ummmm…

Apparently a person guilty of this ‘invasion of privacy’ would be subject to special damages, general damages and “punitive damages up to three times the amount of general and special damages combined.”

Wha-what???

Are you in on this?

Say it isn’t so.

You’re such a good dude…seems like. Seriously, you come across as so exceedingly nice whenever my friends insist on a grinning-like-a-blushing-maniac next to your ever-patient-and-seemingly-entirely-too-sweet-for-words personage photo.

Again, I heart you, Demon of Screamin’. What’s not to heart?

That stated, I wrote you a little something.

OK, maybe “wrote” is a bit of an exaggeration. I re-purposed something you may find familiar, and I hope you sing to yourself (or to the assembled masses at Big Beach. I’ll be in the herd. I always am. We’ve made eye contact. It meant something, I’m pretty sure.)

I call it… errrm… it’s called, “I Don’t Wanna Miss a Thing.”

I could stay awake just to hear you breathing
Watch you smile – and take a night-vision, telephoto close-up – while you are sleeping
While you’re far away and dreaming
I could spend my life in this paparazzi blender
I could stay lost in this moment forever
Where every moment spent stalking you is a moment I treasure

Don’t want to close my eyes
I don’t want to fall asleep
Cause I’d miss that paycheck
And I don’t want to miss a thing
Cause even when I dream of you
The sweetest dream will never do

Cause I need actual photos, babe
And I don’t want to miss a thing

Creeping close to you feeling your heart beating
And I’m wondering what you’re dreaming
Wondering if it’s me you’re seeing
Then I realize we’ve locked eyes

And I scamper off into the heather
Yet I just want to stay with you in this moment forever
Forever and ever

I don’t want to close my eyes
I don’t want to fall asleep
Cause I’d miss that ‘ka-ching’ sound
And I don’t want to miss a thing
Cause even when I dream of you
The sweetest dream will never do

Cause I need clear close-ups, babe
And I don’t want to miss a thing

I don’t want to miss one smile
I don’t want to miss one kiss
I just want to be with you
Right here with you and my Nikon, just like this
I just want to photograph your lack of clothes

Catch you when you’ve had too much wine
And just stay here in this moment
For all the rest of time

Yeah, yeah, yeah

I don’t want to close my eyes
I don’t want to fall asleep
Cause I’d miss those phat checks
And I don’t want to miss a thing
Cause even when I dream of you
The sweetest dream will never do

Cause I got bills to pay, babe
And I don’t want to miss a thing

Love,

The paparazzi who fear they are about to be bankrupted for invading your privacy.

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