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Steel Pan The village pan man was drunk on his love of music, and simultaneously his love of whiskey. He knew the value of friendship and how quickly light fades from life. Every day on his way to the pan-yard, he found someone to play music for, to gossip an take ah drink with, or just silently marvel at the intricacies of butterflies. Sometimes he made it home to bed and sometimes he simply fell asleep curled up with his instrument like a cocoon. Other than beating pan he was about as useful as a glass full of watermelon seeds. But he was happy and shared his happiness in moments, knowing they were precious.