We are reaching that melt down time where all we Sixties teens are seeing our heroes disappear as the Grim Reaper pops along. Actors, singers, song writers, producers, politicians, friends... all drift away and illustrate just how temporary our human lives are.

Very few, like Shakespeare or Dickens or MichelAngelo, last centuries after their demise.

Butterflies count their lives in hours. We count in decades but those are virtually as short in the overall scheme of things.

What do we leave behind? Not much. We are limited by the restrictions of our existence. Very fragile, our lives on this planet. But they contain some wonderful elements and the harmonies and songs of the Everlys were one of them.