Who was Dan? Did we ever truly 'know' him, to the extent that we ever really 'know' anyone? Like a Will-O-the wisp he was there, and then he wasn't. He did his clown guitar thing so that we wouldn't have to and for that, how many of us were ever truly grateful? No, no, as it is said, 'too much of a sacrifice can make a stone of the heart'. We sit at home, safe and safer, we let the Dans of the world take us to places we prefer not to think of. They go before us, shining a soft light in the hard darkness and we tippy-toe at a safe distance. We sleep the sleep of the doped dead and get up late for tea and toast.