PICAYUNE — Boom, boom, pow! Last week was just like that. Ed McMahon, the sidekick; Farrah Fawcett, the pinup icon and then Michael Jackson, legendary musical genius.

“Who’s Michael Jackson?” was the inquiry from my eight-year-old twins when we were reacting to the death of the musical icon. “Who is he? Why is it still on the news?”

That is the response of someone under the age of fifteen. But for us forty somethings, we have grown up with MJ and all of his roller coaster ups and downs.

I remember watching him sing “Ben” on the Academy Awards which made many a white father nervous. He was there through many steps of my life, but as he grew stranger, my fascination turned to disinterest. I still, however, keep his older music alive on my iPod. On his color transformation, some joked that the whiter he got, the less popular he became. I believe the older he got, the more eccentric he became from fame, from mental disorders and from too much too soon syndrome.

As the week concluded Saturday night, I was relieved. Whew, thank goodness, Donny Osmond made it through the week! As did Greg and Marsha Brady and Barry Manilow and Barbra Streisand. (Please fill in your own 70s idols). But time is ticking and another one could bite the dust. Who could be next?

Ed died at a ripe old age and his only scandal was the foreclosure of his home. When his death announcement came, we smiled in remembrance of a long life, and of his achievements. It was bound to happen.

Farrah, we have known for years was fighting a terminal diagnosis that we hoped she would win. She let us in on a private war and all the ugliness associated with it. Yet, she began to fade fast and even lost her trademark mane of hair we all loved and envied. Just like Samson, she had lost her strength and we prepared for the news of her certain end. It was a quiet sadness.

And then the shocking announcement that Michael Jackson was in cardiac arrest. The 50-year-old MJ had been a tabloid train wreck for a decade now, and though it was a shocking, his decline had been witnessed by us all for years. As the world was waiting for the return of the king of pop the news of his death sent many to celebration gatherings. Mr. Jackson died in a bask of love and adoration, something he had lost while alive.

No one lives a charmed life, and we all may hurt people along the way. At death, shouldn’t we be forgiving of transgressions. If we believe in the afterlife, then all is handled. We can mourn the loss of talent, of what could have been and the fact that the demons of fame and an awe-inspiring creativity took their toll on the life of Michael Jackson.

Elvis Presley is still a top money maker though dead for decades. We remember skinny Elvis, we watch his movies, we enjoy his music and we push aside his drug addiction, strange behavior and the fact he died unglamorously on a toilet. I hope MJ is remembered for the good he did bring to this earth and now that he is gone, we will forget the dark cloud of suspicion that plagued his eccentric behaviors.

Three 70s celebs gone in a week. This means, my mortality is shaky too.

When you begin reading obituaries and realize you recognize more names now than you did before and more of your school mates are not making it to the next reunion and all your older relatives have gone on, you are now the new set of the old ones. Death becomes a daily possibility. You may have made it over the hill but how far down will you be able to roll?

Sitting with Granny, my mother-in-law, this past weekend, she showed me a few antique photos of her as a kid and some of the family. In one photo with many of her kin, she points out the cousin they just buried, and now everyone in the photo is deceased. Her photos are filled with dead people.

I think as we get older, our circle of friends and relatives begins to pass away until the circle grows smaller and soon you could be the last one left in the circle. We watch as each death brings to us that one day when we may know more people who are dead than alive. We watch as celebs of our generation also die out. It’s a parade of faces that eventually are only memories cherished in your mind.

I guess that’s why when we lose celebs who we are so familiar with, people we in fact grew up with, it makes an impact. It reminds us that we all are a breath away from our own death. Our time is always drawing nearer and nearer. No matter how famous you are, or how important to the world you are, everyone dies — and pays taxes!

I find it sad that out of the three deaths, MJ’s could have been prevented. Drugs, whether they are prescribed or illegal, have taken so many souls prematurely.

This week has begun, and so far, the celeb death toll is low, so possibly the streak has been broken. The superstition is that people go in threes and it turns out to be true many times. If you are counting the Billy Mays spokesperson death, he died on Sunday. That is a new week by my count.

No one lives forever so we must all embrace our favorite celebs because they too will die. But, the good thing is we have much documented history of their lives to help them live on.

In a way, Ed, Farrah and Michael will never die. Let’s hear it for the 70s!

Tracy Williams is a guest columnist and can be reached at her Web site, myhometowncolumn.com, or e-mail, myhometown@comcast.net