She will be replaced by George Stephanopoulos (whom she replaced) and who will pull double duty on Good Morning America, Mr. Stelter reported officially, noting that the Twitter slip-up sent more sources his way.

Ms. Amanpour will continue to report for the network as a "roving Global Affairs anchor across all ABC platforms," but has also taken a position back at her old home at CNN, reports the Huffington Post. She will host an evening newscast on CNN International.

Thank god no one got truly fired.

Host George Stephanopoulos also took the time to ask the mayor what he thought  of Bernie Madoff's jailhouse interview, in which he claimed that banks had to know of his fraud.

"I don't know who knew what. What I do know is Bernie did it," the mayor said.

And he said that investors who put the money with Madoff should have suspected that something was up.

"Anybody thinks that they can beat the market long term by an awful lot is just being unrealistic," Bloomberg said. "But I think the lesson is a lesson that your mother told you and my mother told me a long time ago: Don't put all your eggs in one basket."

Bloomberg also said that he thought the federal government should re-start the way it deals with the budget by starting with which programs are vital for the country in the future and then figure out a way to fund them, instead of figuring how to allocate the money they have.

And the mayor hedged on a question of whether or not new revenues are needed. He has argued strenuously against raising city taxes, citing the fear that the highest income earners would simply move elsewhere, but obviously that logic would not hold for the federal government.

Finally, Bloomberg was asked what he thinks of the rumors of a Donald Trump presidential bid.

His response? "America is a wonderful country."

There is really only one industry in the Hamptons: the rich and famous. They propel the local economy whether you're talking about landscaping, real estate, hardwood flooring, waiting tables or taking unauthorized photos of celebrities for profit. Mr. Agudo spent years doing the first-driving a backhoe-before he decided to try the last, full time. In 2008, he started the Web site hamptonsgrind.com. Since then he has made his living running the site (he's looking for venture capital) and selling photos of celebrities to outlets like In Touch, Life & Style and sundry foreign publications.

The Hamptons have long been an upper-class refuge, a place where they could sun and swim among their own, unharassed by the rest of us. But in recent years, the culture of celebrity spectacle has firmly taken hold here, as much as it has in Manhattan, Los Angeles and London.

"I said, you know, let me make my hobby make me some money," he explained. "You can't grow up out here and watch your town be taken over by all the millionaires without, you know, wanting a piece of it."

Mr. Agudo, 39, is a big man who favors cargo shorts and short-sleeved button-up shirts. His close-shorn hair and sun-tanned complexion give him the air of an ex-military man, but he has lived in East Hampton all his life.

The Starbucks is where he begins each day's hunt and often where he gets his first photo.

As I was standing outside waiting for him to join me, George Stephanopoulos walked up-looking every bit 35 of his 49 years-wearing khaki shorts, a faded blue polo shirt and dingy white Jack Purcells. He had two dogs in tow, one a solicitous miniature dachshund, the other a barky beast of unapparent breed (possibly a Glen of Imaal terrier). After tying up the dogs, he headed into the Starbucks. I hung back and waited to see how Mr. Agudo would play the situation. Eventually, Mr. Stephanopoulos came back out, retrieved his dogs and went on his way.

Puzzled, I headed back inside to find Mr. Agudo talking to the comedian Michael Showalter in line.

Mr. Agudo came back to the table and excitedly asked, "Did you just see what happened?"

"Stephanopoulos or the guy you were just talking to?"

"Wait, is he somebody?" Mr. Agudo asked me.

"Yeah, he's a comedian. He's on TV. His name's Michael something."

"See, because I asked him if he was anybody, and he said no. I'm gonna go say, 'Hey Mike,' and see what he says."

After a moment Mr. Agudo returned to his seat, winked and made a chk-chk noise out of the side of his mouth.

"He totally did not like that," Mr. Agudo informed me, admitting that at first he thought Mr. Showalter might have been the musician Perry Farrell.

He was feeling the day's possibilities, the notion first thing in the morning that today might be the day when you catch someone really famous-Madonna, say-doing something really boring-grocery shopping, say-and sell the shot for a tidy sum. Rubbing his hands together, he said, "Here we go. Hopefully, get a good one today. A moneymaker." He darted outside to catch a snapshot of the newscaster before he disappeared. "We'll throw him on Hamptons Grind. Celebrity dogs," he added.

It was time to head out. Mr. Agudo made a preliminary round of nearby restaurants and shops. With his camera in his backpack and his hands in his pockets, he didn't walk as much as skulk. This lurking demeanor would seem even more suspect when we later dropped by a petting zoo in search of stars with their kids.

With no luck in town, it was time to hit the road. Mr. Agudo's white Ford Escort is conspicuous among the Ferraris, Maseratis, Aston Martins and immaculate classic cars. The first stop was East Hampton Main Beach.

After a brief stroll around the concession stand there, we got into the car, made a U-turn and slid back toward town. A white convertible Beetle approached from the opposite direction.

"Look, is this Russell Simmons? Look, there's Russell. Where's he going?" Mr. Agudo said. "See, this is the shit. He'd drive right by you. But to me, I'm in the business. He's nothing, but if you get him in the shot, on the beach. I hope he's going in there with his shirt off, yeah, you never know."

We made a U-turn, and crept up on Mr. Simmons' car from behind. Then we made another U-turn, exiting the lot. "He's just at the beach. Leave him be," Mr. Agudo decided. "I made money on him a little while ago. I'm not even gonna bother the guy," he continued, easing the car to the side of the road and adjusting his side mirror to better surveil the rap mogul.

"Where's Rev. Run? That's who I want to see today," he continued, referring to Mr. Simmons brother, the Rev. Joseph Simmons, an ordained minister and member of the rap trio Run-DMC.

Little more than 100 yards down the road, I spotted a flashy convertible, a 1970 Chevy Chevelle SS ragtop, whose driver I recognized.

"There's Bon Jovi," I pointed out.

"Holy shit!" Mr. Agudo exclaimed as the rock star made a left in front of us. We made a hasty U-turn and passed Mr. Bon Jovi's gate just as he pulled into the driveway of his redoubtable house and under a well-concealed carport.

East Hampton in the summer is very much a walking and biking community (though the traffic is still a special kind of hell), and each cyclist or pedestrian we passed received a once-over from Mr. Agudo. We passed a woman jogging, and Mr. Agudo sang to himself, "Who could it be? Are you anybody famous?" We passed a couple in a pedal car. "I thought it was someone, but ..." It turned out it was no one, just a person. This is a chronic pastime out here, even for the nonprofessionals.

EVERYONE HERE IS looking to see who everyone is. More to the point, everyone is looking to see if anyone is someone. Eventually a series of questions emerges. First: Who is that person, and is he or she famous? If not, second: What is he or she doing here? Third: Am I famous? If not, fourth: What am I doing here? Fifth: Who am I? Of course, these questions are null and void if the subject is wealthy.

No doubt Mr. Agudo has felt these pangs of being a nobody in a town full, at least during the summer, of somebodies. As we drove by a particularly large oceanfront property, he pointed out, "This is some really rich guy. He tore up the dune and didn't even care. It must be nice, man. Just to move somewhere, total disregard for any laws ... Maybe I'll have that problem one day. But living out here, and seeing them, with all the cars, you want that problem. I don't want to be a snob or anything. I want to go to the next level. That's why we're doing this."

Like all paparazzi, or at least all those quoted in the press, Mr. Agudo makes a distinction between his modus operandi and those of competing photographers. He respects his subjects' privacy; they disregard it completely. This impulse toward decency-even if often not adhered to-could have its drawbacks. As Peter Howe, author of Paparazzi, once put it, "The real paparazzi are the ones who come up with these amazing creative ways of invading somebody else's privacy."

Felix Filho, a photographer with the infamous and wildly successful Los Angeles photo agency X-17, was even more forthright. "To be a pap," he told The Atlantic, "you
have to be ready to do anything, legal or illegal." At times, Mr. Agudo seems to lack such resolve.

Though he has paid hot-dog vendors and shopkeepers for tips and once rented a cherry picker to hoist him into the air for an over-the-fence shot, Mr. Agudo favors a noninvasive, cooperative approach. After all, these people are his neighbors. "I honestly think," he told me, "that if a lot of them knew that I was just a local boy trying to do right by 'em, you know, do right by myself, they might give me a little opportunity. ... You just gotta be forward and ask. If you don't, you never know.

"I'm just trying to get out of Three Mile, like Eminem," he continued, referencing both the name of the trailer park where he lived, Three Mile Harbor, and the movie 8 Mile, starring the popular white rapper. One paparazzo told me he wouldn't work a summer in the Hamptons for less than $100,000. Mr. Agudo has not yet moved into that income bracket. He told me that his best "get," a shot of Lindsay Lohan, netted him several thousand dollars. Some he sells for as little as $20. 

We headed to a local yacht club-the name of which Mr. Agudo requested go unmentioned-to "check out this guy, see if he's on tour or not."

"Who?" I inquired

"Paul McCartney."

Sir Paul, it turns out, is the ur-quarry, part of the hamptonsgrind.com origin myth. "I was doing photography like 10 years ago," he recalled. "Just landscape. From there, I bumped into a few people. Paul McCartney, when he was going out with Heather Mills. I had a landscape camera, and Heather Mills got out of the car and smacked me with her pocketbook." He had shown me the photo earlier, of the couple in a Rolls-Royce. "I'm sure ever since that day, he hasn't really been driving that around too much. He's probably got it in storage." He didn't use the photo because Ms. Mills had been so upset. "They were on their way to Splitsville, U.S.A., anyway."

We eased into the club parking lot, did the usual scan for recognizables, saw none and made a U-turn. Back on the Montauk Highway, Mr. Agudo reconsidered an earlier prohibition on stopping at a local church fair. (Earlier, he said, "I'm not gonna bother them with their families." Now, he said, "They all live here. Liev Schreiber, Naomi Watts. For them, they could walk here.")

As we parked the car, a man in a large white Chevy work truck slowed, rolled down his window and yelled to Mr. Agudo, "I just saw Gwyneth."

"Oh, shit," he responded. Back in the car.

After some scouting of the roads near the house where Gwyneth Paltrow summers with husband Chris Martin, we came to a stop at the intersection of Atlantic Avenue and Bluff Road. Mr. Agudo looked thoughtfully left then right, then left again, muttering to himself, "If I were Gwyneth ..." Right again, then left, he then proceeded straight, through the intersection. Apparently, if he were Ms. Paltrow, Mr. Agudo would head for the beach. Easing down the sand-dusted road, we came up behind a caravan of cyclists, what looked to be a few teenagers and a grown woman. Mr. Agudo craned his neck around as we pass. The woman was blond, but, as it turned out, not a famous movie star. "There's too many bikers for me today," Mr. Agudo said.

We arrived once again at the small parking lot of the beach. Two flaxen-haired girls were sitting languidly by a fruit stand. Mr. Agudo, furrowed his brow and scanned the limited horizon for a glimpse of Ms. Paltrow. She was nowhere to be seen, the closest thing being the lanky, towheaded pair behind the crate of plums.

As we look out at the ocean, a tanned teenage boy walked down the steps from the concession shack, spinning a lanyard.

"Hey, is Seinfeld down there?" the boy barked to the girls.

"Oh, shit." Mr. Agudo's ears pricked up. "Did you hear that?" He could already envision the big Jerry shot.

The girls slowly turned their sunglasses in the boy's direction.

"What?" said one.

"What?" echoed the other.

He pointed to the front of their table. "Your sign fell down there," the boy repeated.

"Oh," they answered in unison, without moving to fix it.

U-turn. Back up the road. Away from the beach.

editorial@observer.com

According to city records, it looks like these days the only people able to spy on George are residents and guests at the Carlyle and employees at the Rhinelander-Ralph Lauren. Mr. Stephanopoulos and wife, actress Alexandra Wentworth, purchased a full-floor abode at 30 East 72nd Street for $6.5 million from Corcoran agent Heather Sargent, who conveniently also had the listing—and no comment.

In the ensuing 16 years since his unofficial Friends' cameo, the small Mediterranean with curiously intelligent good looks has been very busy. He published a best-selling memoir of his exhausting tenure at the White House, married Ms. Wentworth, became a political analyst for ABC News and a correspondent for the network's This Week, and most recently Mr. Stephanopoulos took over for Diane Sawyer as Good Morning America host, displacing the family—the couple have two daughters—to New York City from Washington, D.C.

The family's new apartment is a prewar three-bedroom with a "gracious gallery," walk-in closets and "sun-flooded" kitchen with double ovens and a six-burner stove.

Mr. Stephanopoulos once griped, "four years in the White House and two presidential campaigns is an awful long time. In politics, every year in the White House is like dog years, six years off your life." One gets the impression that life at 30 East 72nd Street, with its wood-burning fireplace, wet bar and private elevator vestibule, may be considerably less rankling on the nerves.

cmalle@observer.com

According to FishbowlDC, Ms. Amanpour has told colleagues that she'd prefer to stay in New York, and not move to the capital, if she takes the job.

Politico mentions that ABC chief executive Bob Iger and his wife, Willow Bay, might be particularly fond of Ms. Amanpour, which appears to have given Ms. Amanpour the nod over more predictable hosts--Jake Tapper, Terry Moran, Gwen Ifill--for a Sunday morning show.

The awkwardness starts around the six-minute mark when Lady Gaga starts talking about condoms, and Mr. Stephanopoulos starts looking for Robin Roberts to jump in.

As the new host put it, with about as much enthusiasm as the famously understated former presidential adviser could muster: "Get ready to be starstruck!"

Mr. Stephanopoulos sized up his guests. Ms. Lauper was wearing a black floppy outfit with lacy sleeves. Lady Gaga wore a crown of safety pins. Or was it a nest? The two pop stars were holding hands. “You are all the glam Thelma and Louise,” said Mr. Stephanopoulos.

It was Mr. Stephanopoulos’ 49th birthday. What a crazy year it had been! Just last night, on the eve of the snowstorm, he had gone on Comedy Central’s The Colbert Report. Predictably, that joker had asked him a variation of the same thing he’d been getting repeatedly since December, when ABC News announced that he was leaving the Sunday-morning politics circuit to replace Diane Sawyer as the lead anchor on GMA. Why get yourself mixed up with morning television?

If past was precedent, GMA was a stepping stone to becoming the anchor of ABC World News, as Charles Gibson and now Ms. Sawyer had already proved. But there was more to it than that. In this long-tail world of modern media, who got to be a generalist anymore? Maybe there was a new prestige in generalism. He told Mr. Colbert that he now can do hard and soft news. He gets to interview the president and Lady Gaga. “It is fun to stretch,” he said.

Ever since Dec. 14, Mr. Stephanopoulos’ first morning on GMA, he’s been testing every muscle in his body to push beyond the political news. Along the way, he’s interviewed the 17-year-old star of The Wizards of Waverly Place, a jewelry thief, the author of Eat, Pray, Love, a cyber-bullying expert, Jackie Collins, a pregnant Amy Adams and an aerial performer who’d survived a scary fall. He’s discussed nail polish, floral arrangements, head lice, Oscar picks, pregnancy. He’s received a lesson from Emeril Lagasse on how to cook chicken with Dijon herb sauce. He’s tested out a touchless soap dispenser. He’s observed that it’s a “fine line between brave and stupid” when it comes to parachuting off skyscrapers. And he’s reported on a wild panda being lured off a cliff by Chinese villagers using a banana as bait.

On deck for his birthday show were the actresses Jennifer Garner and Jessica Biel and the designer Diane von Furstenberg, who was there to talk about female empowerment. The estrogen quotient was cranked up high.

Mr. Stephanopoulos introduced Lady Gaga, who along with Ms. Lauper was selling lipstick to raise awareness about the danger that AIDS poses for young women. As a child, Lady Gaga had loved watching her mom put on lipstick in the morning. Such moments, she said, gave mothers a great chance to talk to their daughters about love and sex and AIDS. Around the world, there are any numbers of journalists who would shiv their own best friend for the opportunity to curl up next to Lady Gaga and flesh out her sex life in front of the cameras. Mr. Stephanopoulos, however, proceeded cautiously. He didn’t pry. “Does your mom still take credit for your makeup?” he asked.

A few minutes later, the conversation circled back to sex. At that moment, the cameras caught Mr. Stephanopoulos looking over his shoulder, seemingly trying to get the attention of Robin Roberts, his GMA co-host, who was sitting on the other side of the studio. Lady Gaga  noted that using a condom in the heat of the moment was hard “especially for older women, who maybe for a while haven’t been with a man or a woman and act out of passion and excitement …”

“And starvation,” said Ms. Lauper, laughing.

Mr. Stephanopoulos looked around again and, this time, waved his folder in the air. Hello?!? Ms. Roberts jumped in with a question. “We appreciate what you just said,” Ms. Roberts observed. “It’s O.K. for morning television. People need to hear that.”

FROM THE GET-GO, various observers have questioned Mr. Stephanopoulos’ suitability for the GMA job. Call it the reverse Katie Couric syndrome. As in, isn’t he just a little too qualified for morning TV?

And yet let’s not forget it’s in the family. In 2001, Mr. Stephanopoulos married the actor Ali Wentworth, who among other things had impersonated Sharon Stone on In Living Color; played Jerry Seinfeld’s girlfriend “Schmoopie” on the Soup Nazi episode; and written The Wasp Cookbook. Beginning in September 2003, Ms. Wentworth had co-hosted a short-lived syndicated talk show, called Living It Up. Sex was a favorite topic. Oversharing was the norm. Her approach toward television was completely different from that of her husband. “He’s a very private guy,” she told The Observer at the time. “And I’ve always used whatever was going on in my life as material, where he has used everything in his life to make sure it doesn’t become material.”

In front of cameras, Mr. Stephanopoulos has always been emotionally opaque. Throughout The War Room, the 1993 documentary about the Clinton presidential campaign team, which contributed significantly to Mr. Stephanopoulos’ growing fame, the young director of communications is seen working alongside his friend and mentor, James Carville. Stylistically, the two men are a study in opposites. Mr. Carville is emotionally volcanic. Mr. Stephanopoulos is reserved. Toward the end of the campaign, Mr. Carville delivers a heartfelt speech to a roomful of staffers and breaks down in tears. Shortly thereafter, Mr. Stephanopoulos is seen on the phone delivering good news to Mr. Clinton. The moment seems ripe for Mr. Stephanopoulos’ own emotional catharsis. When he hangs up the phone, a fellow staffer presses him for a reaction. “How do you feel?” she asks. “Are you happy? Or scared ? Or are you nothing? Or do you just want to cry, or what?” Mr. Stephanopoulos pauses. “The crying is before, maybe later, too,” he replies. “Now, I’m just floating.”

Some 17 years later, the War Room documentarians say they’re not surprised at Mr. Stephanopoulos’ latest career move. “He’s much better suited to it than someone like, say, James Carville,” director Chris Hegedus told The Observer. “George has always had a wide curiosity in a lot of things. We once told George that we had done a film on John DeLorean, and George was like, ‘Wow—the gull-wing door car!’”

“He has such a winning, boyish quality,” she added. 

Some are less enthusiastic. “My line on George is that he is likable, but he’s not knowable,” said esteemed Newsday critic Verne Gay. “In those jobs, you’ve got to be both. He’s obviously a really smart guy. He’s got all the qualifications, times 10. He’s highly professional. When the guy smiles and laughs, you like him. But when he’s onscreen, you just don’t know who he is. He’s a real cipher.”

Perhaps intentionally so. “You know, George is very methodical when he says something, like he’s his own great spin doctor,” Ms. Wentworth said in 2004. “I don’t self-edit the way he does.”

Self-editing is great in politics. It’s fine for the host of a Sunday news show. And once upon a time, not so long ago in American life, in the epoch now known as pre-Snooki, public discretion was considered a moral virtue. But now we live in the heyday of indiscretion. Morning television is part of the game. The genre demands full exposure from its anchors. On-air colonoscopies are the gold standard. Anchors must create the illusion of openness. “With George, there’s a wall there,” said Mr. Gay. 

MANY YEARS AGO, before Mr. Stephanopoulos studied Christian ethics as a Rhodes Scholar at Cambridge, before he made his name in national politics, and before he left the White House for ABC News, he spent his early years preparing for life as a priest. His father was a priest in the Greek Orthodox Church. So too his grandfather. And even years after eschewing the priesthood for politics and media, a sense of emotional reserve befitting a man of the cloth still hangs about him.  

Early in his career, that sensibility served him well. In his early 30s, as the communications director for Bill Clinton’s 1992 presidential run, Mr. Stephanopoulos regularly fought to keep the skeletons in Mr. Clinton’s closet from derailing everything. One moment, it was Gennifer Flowers popping up on the cover of Star, alleging a long affair with Mr. Clinton. The next, it was Connie Hamzy, the Little Rock groupie. Again and again, Mr. Stephanopoulos deftly diffused the “bimbo eruptions,” steering countless reporters away from the temptations of the Clinton bedroom story. There has been a wall between public and private life in American politics, the fresh-faced son of a priest argued, and it should be respected.

But there are no altar boys in morning television, and no real walls. In the coming weeks and months, to succeed in his new job, Mr. Stephanopoulos must pull off the opposite trick. Instead of burying the messy, private details of American public figures (including his own), his task will be to coax those details to light.

How’s it going so far? Although to date, ABC News has taken a low-key approach toward promoting the new team of George, Robin,  Sam Champion and Juju Chang, they put on the full-court press for this article.

“I think he’s doing remarkably well,” said David Westin, the president of ABC News.

“It’s going spectacular,” said Jim Murphy, the executive producer of GMA. “What’s surprised me is his range. … He has no problem dealing with everything. He does his homework. And he cares to death. It all works out.”

“The entire chemistry of the new cast is very good,” said Bill Fine, the head of WCVB, the ABC affiliate in Boston.

“We’ve had a smooth start, and we’re having fun,” said Mr. Stephanopoulos.

Mr. Stephanopoulos, who called in to comment at the eleventh hour, said he talks about the show with his wife all the time. “Her real background is in improv. She’s terrific in teaching me …” He paused. “How to go with it.”

He went on. “When it feels right for the story and appropriate, I do it,” he added. “I think it’s important not to force it, but not to block it, either. So when I was doing a segment with Dr. Richard Besser about anti-depressants, I was happy to talk about that, and my experience. When he did a segment on head lice, and my family had just come out of a week of being de-loused, we talked about that. If it makes sense for the story, I’m open to it.”

Recently on GMA, Mr. Stephanopoulos asked Rosie O’Donnell for her opinion. “Well, I think you’re doing pretty well,” said Ms. O’Donnell. “You just have to relax.”

Easier said than done. Anchoring GMA has always been a high-pressure job. But it’s now more important for ABC News than ever. Whereas NBC News can lean on the large profits of CNBC and MSNBC, ABC News has no cable news channels to provide subscription fees and must rely heavily on GMA to generate revenue. As such, it is of dire importance to Mr. Stephanopoulos and all of his colleagues that GMA hold on to (if not increase) its viewers.

So far this year, that hasn’t happened. During the first five weeks of 2010, GMA has averaged 1,948,000 viewers in the 25-54 demographic on which news divisions sell ads. In the first five weeks of 2009, with Diane Sawyer still at the helm, GMA averaged 2,172,000. That’s a year-to-year decline of 10.4 percent. A significant dip in eyeballs, when every last penny of advertising counts. ABC News executives point out that it’s still very early in the Stephanopoulos era and that, year-to-year, all the morning news shows are losing viewers. To wit: During the same time frame, CBS’s The Early Show is down 14.4 percent versus 2009; NBC’s top rated Today is down 3.7 percent.

Mr. Westin, the president of ABC News, said he is pleased so far with Mr. Stephanopoulos and has confidence in the new team. He said that in the wake of the departure of a star like Diane Sawyer, he fully expected that it would take time for GMA to make up any ground on NBC’s Today. “I’m hopeful that if you talk to me in six months or a year that the audience will have responded,” said Mr. Westin. “This is way early going. But the way I look at it, we are in better shape than I would have predicted at this point.”

Mr. Westin said he chose Mr. Stephanopoulos for the job, in part, to beef up the substance of the show. “George has the qualities which are essential to a successful morning anchor,” he said. “He’s very intelligent. He’s very curious. He has a wide range of interests. And he has a natural way about him.”

“I think people should also be careful of underestimating George,” he added.

Back in the studio on Wednesday morning, the GMA producers treated their new anchor to a birthday surprise. With Mr. Stephanopoulos looking on, the cameras zoomed in on Ali Wentworth, who had popped up in the studio, wearing a blond wig. She promptly launched into an impression of Diane Sawyer. A few seconds later, she tore off her wig and removed her jacket, revealing a leopard-print dress. “Oh, honey, George, I never, ever get to see you at home,” she said. “I love you.” Ms. Wentworth mounted the table and began crawling on her hands and knees toward the camera. “I shaved my legs and made you a steak.”

This was the job Mr. Stephanopoulos had signed up for. He blushed.

“Happy birthday, baby,” said Ms. Wentworth, gyrating her hips for the camera.

“Welcome to morning TV, George,” Ms. Roberts chimed in. “Welcome to morning TV.”

fgillette@observer.com

More from Felix Gillette:

D-Day at CBS News

Leno the Loner

OMB Chief's Broadcast Babe, Bianna, Will Keep Her Beat at ABC

Mr. Colbert posited a theory about why the successful host of This Week would bolt for a soft-focus morning show.

"[Diane Sawyer] was at GMA and now she’s got the anchor chair for the evening news. Charlie Gibson was at GMA and then he got the evening news," Mr. Colbert said. "Is this tit-for-tat, like, 'I’ll do GMA and flip the blueberry pancakes and then I get the chair?' Is there a quid pro quo here with you and ABC News?”

“It all depends on how good the pancakes are," Mr. Stephanopoulos quipped, before getting serious. “A lot of people who’ve done the job go on to do the evening news, but this is Diane’s job for as long as she wants it," he said.

The Colbert Report	Mon - Thurs 11:30pm / 10:30c
George Stephanopoulos
www.colbertnation.com
Colbert Report Full Episodes Political Humor Economy

]]> George Stephanopoulos had a Heineken with Steven Colbert last night, and talked about his new gig at Good Morning America, which requires him to not only rouse himself at 3:45 every morning, but sit through soft-focus segments on, say, the best online coupons.

Mr. Colbert posited a theory about why the successful host of This Week would bolt for a soft-focus morning show.

"[Diane Sawyer] was at GMA and now she’s got the anchor chair for the evening news. Charlie Gibson was at GMA and then he got the evening news," Mr. Colbert said. "Is this tit-for-tat, like, 'I’ll do GMA and flip the blueberry pancakes and then I get the chair?' Is there a quid pro quo here with you and ABC News?”

“It all depends on how good the pancakes are," Mr. Stephanopoulos quipped, before getting serious. “A lot of people who’ve done the job go on to do the evening news, but this is Diane’s job for as long as she wants it," he said.

The Colbert Report	Mon - Thurs 11:30pm / 10:30c
George Stephanopoulos
www.colbertnation.com
Colbert Report Full Episodes Political Humor Economy

]]> http://observer.com/2010/02/stephanopoulos-working-on-his-pancakes/feed/ 0 jhanasobserver http://observer.com/2010/02/but-for-the-grace-of-god-goes-hank-paulson/#comments Mon, 01 Feb 2010 18:33:38 -0400 http://observer.com/2010/02/but-for-the-grace-of-god-goes-hank-paulson/ Reid Pillifant http://www.observer.com/2010/02/but-for-the-grace-of-god-goes-hank-paulson/ On Good Morning America this morning, former Treasury Secretary Hank Paulson defended himself against the charge that he unduly gave a golden egg to his former company, Goldman Sachs, when the government paid the company 100 cents on the dollar for its AIG debt.

"In every situation--and particularly with regard to AIG--I cared about one thing and one thing only. If AIG had gone down, it would have been catastrophic for the American economy. It would have taken down the whole financial system," said Mr. Paulson, who is promoting his new book On the Brink.

"I believe that if we hadn't taken the actions we'd taken, we could have seen unemployment rates up at the levels we saw at the Great Depression--25 percent," he told George Stephanopoulos.

The economy wasn't the only thing on the brink. In a section excerpted in the Wall Street Journal today, Mr. Paulson writes of the night of Saturday, September 13, 2008, when he was trying to figure out what to do as Lehman Brothers tanked:

Anticipating another sleep-deprived night, I arrived back at the hotel exhausted. I went into the bathroom of my room and pulled out a bottle of sleeping pills I'd been given in Washington. As a Christian Scientist, I don't take medication, but that night I desperately needed rest.

I stood under the harsh bathroom lights, staring at the small pill in the palm of my hand. Then I flushed it-and the contents of the entire bottle-down the toilet. I decided I would rely on prayer, placing my trust in a Higher Power.

GMA producers marked the day with a series of mellifluous tributes, looking back at a decade of highlights. Ms. Sawyer wading through the high waters of Katrina. Ms. Sawyer interviewing victims of the tsunami. And on and on.

At one point, George Stephanopoulos materialized to say hello to his newly inherited family of viewers.

For Ms. Sawyer, Friday's show provided not only a chance to pass the baton to Mr. Stephanopoulos but also one final opportunity to try and top that perrenially first place morning show, Today.

Alas, no.

Despite the hightened media curiosity and some advanced end-of-an-era hoopla, Ms. Sawyer's farewell show ultimately failed to win the morning, once again, finishing runner up to NBC's Today. 

According to preliminary Nielsen data, Ms. Sawyer's farewell attracted roughly 4.8 million total views and 2.0 million in the 25 to 54 demographic--well short of Today's roughly 5.3 million total viewers and approximately 2.5 million in the demo.

(By comparison, some three-and-half years ago when Katie Couric said goodbye to the Today show, the sendoff was a ratings bonanza for NBC, easily winning the morning, and attracting some 8.4 million total viewers.)

Three days later, on Monday Dec. 14, Mr. Stephanopoulos made his official debut as GMA's anchor and managed to pick up where Ms. Sawyer left off. Deep in second place. 

According to preliminary numbers, Mr. Stephanopoulos' first day attracted roughly 4.6 million total viewers and 2.1 million in the demo; while Today won handily with approximately 5.9 million total viewers and 2.9 million in the demo.