“It’s a cacophony out here tonight!” says Steve Sharp, a solitary man thrusting a sign to the sky as he stands on a corner where Hollywood and Sunset boulevards meet. “People are going crazy for what this is about! Peace! Peace!”

He spins, light on his 63-year-old feet. He jumps, legs splayed, sweat spraying from his brow. When a traffic signal turns red, he pauses. When it flashes green, it’s go, go, go, a river of cars passing by, Sharp cajoling each one: “Come on, come on, come on, show me some love!”

Someone in an old Ford Pinto yells his approval. Someone in an SUV is another fan: Beeeep! Beeeep! Every now and again, no surprise, a driver unfurls at Sharp the middle-finger salute. You gotta love them too, he says, everyone’s welcome on this train and there’s no stopping it now.

“Southbound, honk for me southbound traffic, come on, let’s hear it!”

Sharp is a true believer. A believer in humanity despite humanity’s sordid foibles and angry edges. A believer, more pressing given the historical moment, in the notion that wars must end, particularly the ones American soldiers are fighting in now.

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