A young man of promise in the late ​’60s veers to LSD and cos­mic light. Step­ping away from uni­ver­si­ty to cult life, he steps into pas­tel jam­mies, chant­i­ng, danc­ing and tin­gling fin­ger cym­bals. Passers­by yell and laugh, and he laughs back, niched in bliss. Nat­ur­al intel­li­gence takes him to oper­a­tional man­age­ment, as labor and med­i­ta­tion define pur­pose for years, until…Harsh truth drops like a turd in the punch bowl, a small one, but still. Would you like a cup?

He’d chal­lenged the elders of his child­hood. What did you do, when you had the chance? The ques­tion comes back, call­ing for strange abso­lu­tion and jus­tice served.

Despair­ing a bleak future and poten­tial wast­ed, he med­i­tates on a bong like 1969 and phones a friend. The sto­ry resolves on chal­lenge, endurance and revelation.

Drawn on real-time, Solomon Kursh reveals the ​’60s in nuance and char­ac­ter rarely avail­able in mate­r­i­al based on that era. As usu­al with Robert Wint­ner, irony, wicked humor, insight and laugh-aloud aber­ra­tion result in page-turn­ing entertainment.