As I write, the British band the Who are doing yet another world tour.  Its two surviving members, Roger Daltrey and Peter Townshend, well into their seventies, continue to enjoy doing music.  And we are grateful they are.
     Some of us recall how, in the Who's early days, upon completing a performance, the band members, particularly Pete Townshend, would proceed to smash their instruments on stage.  It was part of their act, part of how they saw their music as an expression of an almost anarchaic protest of the stilted manner in which so many of us lived.


     While we can agree or disagree on the merits of such actions, I write about them because I recently came across the obituary of one Alan Rogan.  His job?  Rogan's job was to repair Pete Townshend's guitars in the aftermath of his carnage.  It is an odd thing for which to be remembered, but that's how I noticed his obit in the newspaper.  On the other hand, someone, I guess, had to do it:  Pete had some very expensive guitars.  He couldn't readily afford to buy a new one every week.

     We do not have the capacity to measure the worth of a life.  We cannot see beyond it.  We can't always see it in a bigger picture.  We're only finite human beings.  How Rogan's work fit into this picture I'm not fully sure, but when I was writing my first book and needed permission from Pete Townshend to excerpt a line from his "I'm Free" in my manuscript, one of his representatives called me and told me that Pete had granted me permission, gratis.  I was so grateful:  permissions are often very expensive.
     As Ecclesiastes observes, "we do not know the activity of God who makes all things."  Thanks, Alan, for repairing Pete's guitars.