I know an old man who plays his horn on street corners.  He’s a jazzman from the sixties with gray wooly hair, broad nose and big smile.  He lives in the city and walks around with a saxophone strapped to his side.  As he walks he hums, claps his hands and shouts.  He laughs raucously at the thought of his music and plays tirelessly for anyone who will listen. He knows that RHYTHM guides this universe and understands just how LOVE can save the world.  But he wants only to be with his horn and lives a lonely life keeping secrets that could free us all.  Standing on the corner, his eyes shut tightly, breathing his soul into his horn, chords wail into the atmosphere and it sounds as if his heart is pleading with God.