opinion

Many are in mourning over three members of America’s collective cultural family: Ed McMahon, Farrah Fawcett and Michael Jackson.

The media era each came of age in may be expiring, too.

Of course, each was distinctly different. Ed McMahon, for instance, was the No. 2 for a program that was No. 1 for decades: “The Tonight Show,” whose host, Johnny Carson, may not have been the "king of pop," but whose knighting of up-and-coming comics created the next generation of TV’s talk show royalty.

Two of those jokers who jumped up in prominence after stand-up routines on the “Tonight Show” included his successor, Jay Leno, and Jay’s rival, David Letterman. While Leno will soon have a primetime platform and Dave just beat Jay’s understudy, Conan O’Brien in the ratings, late night -- just like all media -- now seems wide open, leaving the nation without the one comic commonality to discuss over coffee the next morning.

McMahon’s “Tonight Show” spot spanned 30 years. Conversely, Farrah Fawcett spent only a season on ABC’s “Charlie’s Angels.” But it was a match made in pop culture heaven, as her show and her poster reached (and made) millions. That, however, was back in the network era, not the networked era of today’s wired media society of computer and phone screens. Today, it’s hard to imagine the small screen creating such a big sensation, and releasing a cheesecake poster might be considered cheesy (or quaint), especially in the wake of yesterday’s news that a developer tried to add porn as the latest iPhone app.

Michael Jackson’s impact represented the ultimate shared experience. But ironically, his rise concurrently accelerated the media meltdown that makes it so hard to replicate his success. His “Thriller” album not only was the top seller of all time, but came at a time when TV and Top 40 radio could aggregate audiences enough to truly make him the “The King of Pop.”

But his cultural and commercial breakthrough also brought truth in advertising to the iconic “I Want My MTV” campaign, and cable’s crack-up of big broadcasting audiences led to further individualization -- if not isolation -- in music. Indeed, just a decade later, it wasn’t “Thriller,” but Napster, that had the most impact, which led to the seismic shift toward today’s iPod culture.

Sadly, Michael’s bizarre behavior also created content -- and the context -- for the celebrity/paparazzi industrial complex that resulted in websites like TMZ, which was the first to report his death yesterday.

Overall, media is bigger than ever. But stars, if not smaller, are part of a bigger constellation made possible by today’s media environment.

So while we could now use a smart phone to watch Ed bellow “heeeere’s Johnny,” upload a digital image of Farrah’s red swimsuit poster, or dance to the beat of “Beat It,” the likelihood that we’d watch, look at, or listen to the same thing seems remote in today’s day and age. After all, they’re called iPods, not wePods.

So today, many mourn for these three big stars, who will be missed.

But maybe, deep down, with shared cultural experiences also expiring, we’re also mourning because we miss each other.