I don't want to pretend I knew Ed McMahon really well. I was on
his Star Search a few times as a judge, and I frequently
ran into him at Morton's, Mister Chow, and other Hollywood
watering holes. He always used to tell me he wished he had paid
more attention to my articles about personal finance, and I guess
he wasn't kidding.
But I knew him really well the way 200 million Americans knew him
-- as a calming, friendly, affable pal whom we could tune into
almost every night along with the world's most likable guy,
Johnny Carson.
He was from a different era, the era when Hollywood people were
supposed to be likable grownups, not drug-snorting, obscene
brats. He was the guy you would want as your next door neighbor,
the one who would listen to you without judging you, and who
would, at the end of your rant, just smile, shake your hand, say,
"Pal, that's life," and offer you a beer. He was also the guy who
was a Marine Corps pilot in World War II and in Korea, flying
incredibly dangerous missions in artillery observer aircraft.
Naturally, he never bragged about it. Never.
He wasn't snarly or snarky and I don't remember him ever saying a
mean word about any guest or anyone. He was just there to be
America's best friend's best friend.
I like many of today's late night hosts, and Jimmy Kimmel is one
of my closest friends, but he's a kid. To me, Ed McMahon, about
25 years older than I am, was what an adult should be --
confident, diffident about his fame, just a regular guy, when
being a regular guy was a good thing.
Many years ago, before I came to Hollywood myself, I lived in New
York in a penthouse with an astonishing view. That was before
apartments in New York were prohibitive. But anyway, it was the
loneliest time of my life. The only time I felt as if I had any
friends at all was when I switched on The Tonight Show,
and I felt as if I had a crackling fire and pals in my life,
instead of no one. When the show was over, I had the distinct
feeling that the fire was out, but it would be lit again the next
night.
Now, both Johnny and Ed are gone, and the fire is out for good,
and it's lonely again. By the way, I don't want to hear another
word about his personal finances. He was hired by America to be
our pal, not to teach home economics. And he was darned good at
his job.
