Call us incurable romantics, but something about the pairing of Hollywood elder statesman George Clooney and Sarah Larson—the Phish-loving, sandworm-emulating Ginger to his Fred—seemed to us more than your standard, fly-by-night arm-candy operation. This was a girl who inspired in George acts of chivalry previously thought not possible—on one occasion requiring him to come nearly to fisticuffs with a physically imposing margarine-spokesman just to protect her privacy. Yes, we naively predicted these two crazy kids would find a way to muddle through, in road rash and in health. We were wrong: