JULY 31st! “Would all the antiheroes here please raise their hands?” hands?" Crickets in the audience. Then slowly from the pew,hard as rock and home to gum stuck in the netherworld of rules, lift the exquisite miraculous grasping machines that make us human & too often not. Soon a little copse of trees resembling arms held high beneath the yellow stained-glass sky of the quaint parochial one-room church-house invites with cool shade a summer contemplation to stretch across the rolling moss that gathers no damnatory stones; to lie face up & dream. And there you have it, folks: a soul at peace with being saint, warts and all that jazz you never hear emitted from the upright tailpipes of dusty organs. If you sit real still a bit of a party could break out in the choir loft because at those altitudes heads screwed on tight go a touch giddy, thank God. What do you get when you cross a soldier with a lover, a neurotic (we all are), an over-achiever, and a compulsive introspector?: A faithful far-out almost fabulous anrihero whose purest superpower is unstoppable prayer