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We played it under an evocative, nostalgia-filled voiceover I wrote for Tom about Emitt and the band, and I felt I’d finally closed a loop, but a loop in… what? TBD.Īfter we wrapped the show I returned to Los Angeles and was sitting in my home office when my daughter came in and said, “Somebody named Toni’s on the phone for you.” I picked up.
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To my delight, Toni Ellis, our intrepid post producer, was able to license Emitt’s song “Live” for us to use on the show. We ended up writing an episode about Tom finding and resurrecting the career of a mythical Emitt-like character and helping him finish his long-thought-to-be-lost masterpiece. I regaled the writers room about Emitt, how his music had touched me when I was a boy and stuck with me as a man, how his disappearance from the music scene had always haunted me. In 2006 I was living in New York producing and writing a television show called “Love Monkey,” a delightful concoction about the music business created by Michael Rauch and starring Tom Cavanagh. Throughout the ’80s and ’90s, with his music already 20-30 years past its sell-by date, I was still finding fellow devotees - it wasn’t hard - and still listening to Emitt. He came to me via his music, and that’s how he communicated with me. My relationship with Emitt was largely imagined. All this time Emitt had stayed put, living in a modest house across the street from the one he grew up in. I left California and then came back to Los Angeles at 25 to pursue a career in television. He just stopped making records, and, well… life goes on. I didn’t know they’d all gone to the same high school, or that Emitt would break up his band, become a solo artist, and release just two more celebrated albums before disappearing in 1973. Emmit grew up in Hawthorne, home of my other favorite band, the Beach Boys. I grew up in Diamond Bar, then a sleepy hamlet about 60 miles east of L.A. Not entirely unrequited, and not entirely a happy one. People who knew and loved me knew I had known and loved him. That sad news was followed by a number of phone calls and emails from friends, evidence that Emitt had been more than a blip on the radar just for me. The events of the afternoon we spent together came flooding back when I read of his death on July 19th.