Monday, March 25, 2024

Fade to black


I'm still saddened by the passing of my next door neighbor M. Emmet Walsh. I'm sure that name is not familiar to many of you. On the other hand, considering Emmet's lengthy and far ranging filmography, you  should know the face. 

He was singular in that regard. In fact, he was honored by the late Roger Ebert who once said, "no movie featuring either Harry Dean Stanton or M. Emmet Walsh in a supporting role can be altogether bad." 

While I loved all his performances, I also loved having him live in the house right behind mine. 


And yes, I know the cedar fence needs to be sealed and stained again.

You can't see from the photo, but those cypress trees are about 50 feet tall. I remember when he planted them during my remodel in 1997. He told me, "I don't want you peering into my yard and discovering my dark secrets."

He had a very sarcastic way about him. I didn't want to point out that my two car garage precluded any so-called "peering". And that if anyone should want privacy it would be the naked man who climbs into that hot tub under the cover of darkness.

I hadn't seen Emmet for quite some time. He also has a house in the northern reaches of Vermont. I never got to tell him of my wife's passing who he often described as "lovely" and in the next breath, "unlucky." I mentioned he was sarcastic, right?

Nor had he seen my grown daughters in quite some time. 

Whenever he did, he would reach in his pocket and generously hand them each a two dollar bill. The girls treasured those oddities of currency. Almost as if they were more than two dollars. Now, with inflation and the possibility of an America-destroying Trump presidency, those bills are worth considerably less.

I'll never forget the time Emmet invited me into his home. I was walking my dog Nellie and ran into him. For one reason or another we started talking about SAG, the Screen Actors Guild. Through a career fluke at Chiat/Day I ended up in the union. Not to secure a career in the thespian arts. Though I did do some highly forgettable voiceover work. It was mostly because each year SAG would sent out Oscar screeners in the form of DVDs to their members. 

For my $109 yearly SAG membership I would be sent $300-$400 worth of free movies. Even Eric Trump can do the math on that. Emmet, being of a certain Hollywood league, received many, many more. He offered them all to me.

"Come inside, take whatever DVDs you want. I don't even have a DVD player." 

I'm sure he did. But it was buried under all the clutter. I don't think his cleaning lady had been there that week. Or month. Or decade.

Pardon me for reminiscing. Death tends to make me all melancholy. And while recalling the past makes me misty and puts a smile on my face, I'm also thinking towards the future. And who will take over the house. 

I hope it's someone quiet.






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