Ed McMahon dead at 86.  He had a good run.

 Ed was the butt of many, many jokes over the years, and yet he played a valuable and often under appreciated role in life of the unflappable and unconditionally supportive partner.  He took whatever Johnny Carson threw his way with geniality.

 It was not a necessarily tough gig.  He read Alpo commercials.  He laughed at good jokes, and shared in the agony that was Johnny at his best when things went awry by laughing nervously at his boss squirming.  That laugh always had an edge suggesting he hoped he didn't screw up out there on the stage lest there be "words" backstage after the show.

 I mean, he never had to dress up in funny costumes.  That was Johnny's job.  All he had to do was introduce the guy, and then let him do his thing.  Gladys Knight had her Pips.  Johnny had Ed.  Each likely pointed at the other to say their job was at least more demanding than that.

 But let's be fair.  Laughing on cue sounds to me like it is a tad easier than synchronized spinning while pumping your fist up and down the way a child does to get a trucker to honk his horn while also belting out a "Woo-Hoo!" in a falsetto voice.

 I mean, neither is rocket science, but still.  The Pips required varied uses of many faculties.  Ed needed a baritone voice and a giggle.

And we all thought Ed was done when Johnny packed it in.  It's like the shy and retiring spouse everyone thinks will fold up like a cheap suitcase when the other departs through death or through becoming the walking dead as part of a divorce.

 Not Ed.  He found a way to become the lead dog in a gig that looks like it was easier than even sitting on a couch laughing when everyone else did.

Ed handed out cardboard checks to perfect strangers.

 And how hard is it to surprise people with a million bucks?  I cannot imagine there was a lot of time on the analyst's couch being taught how to handle huge amounts of rejection in your professional interactions, you know?  Do you really think anyone ever said, "Oh, shit, honey, it's that no talent piece of shit Ed McMahon at the door, I wonder what he wants?  Quick, turn off the TV.  We need to pretend like there's no one home."

 Nope, being the Publisher's Clearinghouse talking check dispenser was not a tougher assignment.

Ed shilled other stuff to geezers on late night cable, and near the end it seems the money ran out ahead of his pulse rate.  But, he had a good, long run laughing on cue and handing out checks.

Indeed, that stress free professional situation likely added a few years his life.

 Ed McMahon, dead at 86.  Type B personality makes good. 

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Update 

I had forgotten about his military career, and feel it should be mentioned as well.  Clearly the man had grit and resolve to go along with affability.

 His Wiki entry can be found here.  Thanks Zuma.