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And he had a valid point: a necessary trait of a hero is the ability to do what most of us can't. Necessary, but not sufficient.

"Most of us can't lick our crotches either, but that doesn't make heroes of dogs and contortionists."

I stayed in the game. "How can someone so self-serving possibly be a hero?"

He rolled his eyes and frowned. "So then you're saying a successful entrepreneur can't be a hero?"

"Right and neither can politicians. If they have any integrity at all, they won't be successful."

"Okay then, if a hero has to have to have all that integrity, who's your hero?"

I was stumped for a second, but then blurted out the first thing that came to mind.

"Lao Tzu"

RD erupted in a laugh and choked out, "Loud Sue? Who the hell is that and what did she do?"

"He is the author of the Tao Teh Ching and founder of Taoism, you rube. And all he did was sacrifice everything he had to enrich the spiritual lives of millions for the last two thousand years."

Randy-Dan is a good Christian, so he accepted the premise that heroes have to sacrifice for the benefit of others. We kept the topic up for a while longer, and refined the concept a little, but never really settled on the complete and definitive qualities that make a hero.

I'd forgotten all about that debate on heroes until today. As RD walked up front, I saw his pace slow and uncertainty creep into his gait. At the fountain, he started mugging and grinning and we all knew it was over he was backing out.

Our site VP, C.L. Vellian, (an institutional hero) began grandstanding for the drawing at this point. He closed his eyes, waved outstretched arms, and made a big show of a blind and fair drawing. He opened one eye and shot an annoyed frown at this newcomer on stage that threatened to obstruct and upstage him.

Meanwhile, Randy-Dan, oblivious to the posturing VP right behind him, was putting on a show of his own. He stood at the fountain with one foot raised, hands together over his head, and leaning towards the cheese in the manner of a swimmer preparing to dive. He was still grinning and didn't notice that he stood in a cheese slick left by sloppy nacho munchers. The blinded VP groped for the drawing box and struck Randy-Dan, sending him into a slow pirouette. He spun all the way around, teetered for a second and toppled face-first into the fountain, knocking it off the back of its table.

C.L. opened his eyes in time to see Randy-Dan's dottering dance, and watched the dive with a look of unsympathetic alarm. He flashed a phony,

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