Three stars, three stories

Three stars, three stories

It was a very bad week for entertainment icons.

Three entertainers from different spheres died: one of the infirmities of age, one of cancer and one of an official cause yet to be determined

We’re talking, of course, about Ed McMahon, Farrah Fawcett and Michael Jackson.

Ed McMahon

McMahon, a member of the “greatest generation,” had a talent for television and, by his own description, approached his craft as a salesman. He gained his greatest fame as sidekick, pitchman and foil for 30 years for Johnny Carson on “The Tonight Show.”

But he also hosted 13 shows of his own and generations of TV viewers saw him sell beer, shampoo, dog food and magazine subscriptions. Many will remember him for his Labor Day weekend appearances on the Jerry Lewis telethons to raise money to fight muscular disorders, which stretched from 1967 through the 2008 broadcast.

McMahon died Tuesday in a Los Angeles hospital after a long illness. He was 86.

Farrah Fawcett

Farrah Fawcett, an early baby boomer, blossomed into a 1970s sex symbol who continued to be remembered as one of “Charlie’s Angels,” even though she spent only one season on the show. She was the subject of one of the most famous wall posters ever sold, all of which provided dramatic contrast to her last years of life. For nearly three years, she battled cancer, and much of that battle was captured in a documentary, “Farrah’s Story,” which was released just a month ago. Many who can empathize with that battle will remember her more for the bravery and determination seen in her final years than for the glamour of her midyears.

Fawcett, 62, died Thursday morning at St. John’s Health Center in Santa Monica, just a few hours before Michael Jackson.

Michael Jackson

Jackson was born late in the boomer years, but his complicated life defies any easy generational definition.

At different parts of his life, his unquestionable talent as singer, choreographer and showman could appeal to anyone from McMahon’s generation down to a preschooler just finding his voice or trying out her dance moves.

But his bizarre fascination with cosmetic surgery, his swings between public phenomenon and private hermit and, most troubling, a series of unhealthy relationships with other people’s children are as much his legacy as his songs and his dances.

His death at age 50 came as he was preparing a comeback tour to Great Britain, and at the end of years of warnings from some friends and family members that his abuse of prescription drugs would kill him.

He was as troubled as he was talented, and will be remembered by some for his brilliance, by others for his flaws.