It’s the way it works sometimes.

The public gets caught up in matters that occasionally disgusts it, makes us angry, or frustrates us in the extreme.

I’m talking, of course, about the presidential campaign that is kicking itself into ultra-high gear with primaries coming up. We’re following the “horse races” in both parties and some of us at least are wondering how it’s all going to shake out.

Then we get news of an entirely different sort.

Prince Rogers Nelson died today at his Minnesota estate.

The word knew him as Prince. He was 57. Prince was, to put it mildly, a rock music icon. I am saddened beyond description to hear this news.

He came along a bit after I and others of my generation came of age. Many old folks like me listen more intently to the Beatles, the Rolling Stones and the Beach Boys than, perhaps, to artists such as Prince.

Still, there is no denying at all the man’s genius.

His creativity was unparalleled. His singing voice was, well, OK. I, though, am enthralled with the way he played the guitar.

It was magical to watch Prince play the instrument, let alone merely listen to him.

So, today many of us around the nation and the world are talking not about the goofy presidential campaign that is makes alternately angry and frustrated at the state of our national political process — but about the death of diminutive musician.

I hate the circumstance that diverts our attention away from the current political climate.

In a perverse way, though, I welcome the diversion.

I believe I’m now going to watch some Prince videos and marvel at the man’s genius.