Ed of the Class

For years, they made fun of Ed McMahon for not doing anything to earn his money.

Then he frittered it away, some was lost on bad investments, and he ended up with hardly anything after all.

McMahon was 86 when he slipped quietly into death overnight in Los Angeles. It's anyone's guess what did him in, because Ed was suffering from so many maladies.

McMahon, of course, will be forever joined at the hip, metaphorically, with Johnny Carson after being his sidekick for so many years.

It's true that Ed didn't do a whole lot. What second banana on a talk show ever did?

Ed came up with his signature "Heeeeeere's Johnny!" and he sold some dog food live during the show and he laughed a lot. And drank a lot too, at times.

Yeah, so he didn't do a whole lot and they paid him big bucks for it.

Anyone here who would have turned the money down?

The thing is, Ed McMahon didn't purport to having done anything. He wasn't ashamed of himself, certainly, but he didn't have any grand illusions. His job was what it was, and he knew his place.

Another good second banana trait.



Then there was "Star Search" and some co-hosting for Jerry Lewis's Labor Day telethons, but that was pretty much it. Oh, Ed took an occasional acting gig and appeared on a game show or two, but nothing too voluminous.

At least he didn't try to con you into thinking that he was some sort of indispensable object in television. There were no pretenses, no airs about him.

Carson was notorious for expecting--actually, demanding--nothing but the utmost in professionalism from his crew and minions. McMahon included.

"The only time I really ever saw him truly get angry," McMahon once recalled about his old boss, "was when something went wrong behind the scenes. Johnny couldn't abide anything less than everyone taking their jobs seriously."

McMahon took his job seriously--let there be no doubt about that. He just didn't take himself seriously, and there's a big, refreshing difference.

He was content to be Johnny's best audience--the big, laughing lunk at the end of the sofa.

And we made fun of him for it, but maybe no one else would have done it as well.

But there was more to the Carson/McMahon association than what we saw on our television screens.

“Johnny once described our relationship by saying we were as close as two people could be without being married,” McMahon once recalled.

McMahon, in his later years, hit on rough times, both physically and financially, and some of his old show business pals tried to get him work, doing commercials and other bits that were counter to the "Tonight Show" image he carved for himself.

His house was even in danger of foreclosure at one point, to show you.

Johnny made light of McMahon's drinking, but that was mainly after Ed had mostly kicked the habit. But the drinking was very real for a time, and not funny at all.

McMahon was forever moved by Johnny's being the first to call when McMahon lost a son to cancer in 1995. Carson himself lost a kid--his photographer son to an accidental fall off a cliff.

No, Ed McMahon didn't do much, perhaps, to earn his show business dough.

But he was one of the best at it.