Over the subsequent months, Ernie or his wife drove me to the office. I lived blocks from them, in Hollywood, so the offer to carpool was always appreciated.

Ernie began losing patience with me. I was somewhat obsessed with Disney’s animated version of Beauty and the Beast, that had been released four years prior, and told Ernie he “needed” to see it. “As a Broadway guy ...” I began.

“Enough with that damn Beauty and the Beast already,” he said. “I’ll get around to it, okay?”

He didn’t seem right to me. He was short-tempered and impatient. He appeared to me to be in pain, though I didn’t want to ask. I found out later that Ernie was ill. He would pass away in May of 1995, of liver cancer that was diagnosed just two weeks earlier.

We did not know each other long, but I came to love the man. I developed a deep respect for him both professionally, and personally. I regret that I had never told him I considered him my “adopted California grandfather.”

I attended Ernie’s funeral, and a gathering at his home after. Though he was Jewish (he was born Ernest Harold Markowitz), the gathering was no staid Shiva call. It was a celebration of his life. I met Cy Feuer that day, and was flattered that Ernie had spoken to him about me.

I asked Cy about the cane in the display case near the front door. “Oh, that was John Steinbeck’s,” he said.

I was, and still am, a John Steinbeck fan. He had been one of my favorite authors for many years. “You’re kidding?” I asked.

“You didn’t know?” Cy asked.

“Know what?”

”John Steinbeck was one of Ernie’s closest friends. We worked on a few projects together.”

I was blindsided. I knew Ernest Martin for barely a year. In that time, he said nothing to me about John Steinbeck.

I lost touch with his wife as the year went on. I left the job, and accepted a position at my local PBS station.

Nearly a decade later, I had an idea for a book. I would call it How to Survive a Day Job. The tome would be an inspirational guide for creatives and (other) entrepreneurs. I had often thought of Ernie over the years, and I still had his wife’s home phone number.

I called her, and asked if she would be interested in interviewing for the book. She was happy to hear from me, and invited me over for dinner.