Tommy, can you hear me? Because let’s face it, my deaf, dumb, and blind friend: Since 1969, the year of your birth to the Who, things have gone straight to hell. You’ve gone from great album to overwrought mess of a Ken Russell film to desultory Broadway musical—they even talked you into ballet tights at one point. Now they’re billing you as The Who’s Tommy, as if there were another Tommy out there—or the surviving members of the Who were actually participating in this mockery. Look, I know it must be tough to be a middle-aged rock opera, but where’s your pride, man? What’s next, smoking crack with Todd Bridges? You used to be the Pinball Wizard; now you’re just one big tilt. I won’t be there to tip you at 8 p.m. at the Warner Theatre, 513 13th St. NW. $25-$55. (202) 432-7328. (ML)