A few years ago, it was the music stars: Bowie, Prince, Glenn Frey, Leonard Cohen, George Martin, Scotty Moore, Merle Haggard, Paul Kantner and Leon Russell. They all died within a matter of months.

Sure, there were others, as there always are, every year, but that particular year really stood out; those were the ones that hit home for me, and so many other baby boomers. Occurring as they did in such a short period of time, it was as if it signaled the beginning of the end of an era when music could save your soul. Or maybe it was just a farewell to the exhilaration of youth and a reminder of our mortality.

Some will say the death knell sounded long before that when huge production dance numbers overtook the concert stage, and computers replaced guitars as the most popular instrument, and melody was crushed by rhythm, and everything emanating from Music Row sounded the same.

I once had the honor of interviewing the man they called 'The Genius,' Ray Charles, and he said that true genius to him was characterized by uniqueness of style artists you could recognize and identify within the first few notes. As examples, he listed Willie Nelson and Duke Ellington.

These days, I can hardly tell the difference between anything I hear on pop or so-called country music radio.

Be that as it may, where 2016 was the year of the rockers, or (taking into account Merle) the music stars, this year is the year of the baseball Hall of Famers. Many of the biggest baseball stars of my youth, starting with Al Kaline, have died these past few months.

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Ron Colone: The immortality of rockers and baseball players of yesterday - Lompoc Record