Jane Scott did it her way, and that was lucky for readers, rockers and musical revolutionaries. As The Plain Dealer's rock music critic for more than four decades -- she was often called the first full-time rock critic for a major daily newspaper -- Jane never lost her enthusiasm for the people who made the music, for the moment or for the fans.

With her trademark red-rimmed trifocals, scarves, holds-everything purse and friendly but mischievous smile, Jane was ubiquitous at rock events, from the Beatles to "no-names" like Bruce Springsteen, whom she accurately pegged for superstardom. In a remembrance for her 80th birthday, Lou Reed said Jane was one of the few critics to treat him with kindness when he was just starting out and to want to learn more about what he was trying to achieve musically.

Jane Scott loved the nickname "world's oldest teenager." She was perpetually young, and not just at heart. It astounded many in The Plain Dealer newsroom when she retired in 2002 that she was already in her early 80s.

Hers was the always-youthful wonder at the next new thing, an awe shared with audience members a sixth her age. A reporter first, Jane relished the access and gossipy details that were her trademark and that endeared her to generations of musicians and fans.

Jane Scott died this week at a youthful 92, loving music and her many friends in music to the end. Next year would be a fitting time to recognize her lifetime contributions by inducting her into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame and Museum, which she worked to bring to Cleveland.