Hobo's Meditation
Wouldn't it be great to be a hobo? Where you live your life in towns along the railroad? Where new friends are always just a stop away? I wouldn't ever do it alone, of course. I would want a friend with me, to share the journey. To know me. But I really do think I would love to be a hobo.I start to get restless every now and again. I've been here for two years and am trying to figure out what the next step is. I thought I knew, but things didn't quite work out as planned. So, it's back to the drawing board.
Hobo's don't have to worry about making money or being successful, as the world views it. Hobo's aren't preoccupied with material objects. Hobo's aren't always running off the the next meeting or event; they simply enjoy where they are. Once they no longer enjoy their surroundings, they move on. Sure, they smell from time to time. But being dirty and smelly is a small price to pay for a life full of new things and adventures. People do judge hobos, but it's the type of judging that allows them to feel better about themselves. I don't mind making people feel good about themselves.
I think it would be good if I were a hobo. I could go from town to town, be the cool new girl (once I get showered and clean), work odd jobs to survive, and stay as long as my welcome isn't worn. People get annoyed with me after a small amount of time anyway so once I see my "newness" has worn off, I'll move on to make new friends.
I really don't think this plan sounds too bad.
posted by BJ at 10:48 AM
8 Comments:
Any town you step foot in would be a place never the same. For after BJ walked through, it would see the sunshine brighter, the air fresher, the life more beautiful. Your's would be a hobo's journey that would rub off joy at every stop.
: )
have you been listening to npr? they've been talking about hobos this week!
I wish I was a hobo.
I would join you on this crazy journey.
I wish I didn't have to worry about when I'll be kicked out of this country.
Then, and only then, maybe, I'll be able to go on and be a hobo, traveling Southamerica.
I miss ya for some reason BJ. I didn't see you during my last visit to KC. But I knew you had most importatn things to attend.
Glad to read your new post.
You would make a good hobo. Would Buster accompany you on your hobo-ing expeditions? You could carry him around in a bandana on the end of a stick.
I will allow you to be a hobo only if you promise to not scare those into a frozen stare whom you come in contact with.
My story concerning one very surprising hobo:
As you know BJ I grew up in a very small town. Some might even call it a village, but regardless of its size it was home to me and about two hundred other very lovely people. With few friends in my early teens (sad I know) I had the time to devote to a hobbie, and with careful selection I chose music. I learned guitar quickly and soon became interested in piano (be patient the hobo is coming soon).
Since my father is the minister of the Christian Church in town we were privileged to live next to the church building. Of course, with that comes keys to the church and a welcoming, broken-in church piano for my new passion. I would spend hours alone in the church teaching myself to play. I would go over songs until I no longer needed the music...just perfect timing. One summer evening I was excited to sit down at the piano for awhile and just play. It was common to leave the front door on the church building unlocked for some reason and so I walked in to a dimly lit foyer with sheet music in hand. Passing through the swinging doors into the sanctuary I audibly gasped and nearly dropped my music as I saw a dark figure sitting quietly in the back pew. I quickly found the light switch and discovered my company sitting patiently and smiling wide. This large, black man stood over me and softly posed the question, "Are you the minister here?".
Now, I was in high school at the time and all 140 pounds of me was saying to end the conversation quickly and call for backup. And so I did.
My response to his question was quick, to the point, and slightly short of breath. I said, "No, but my dad is...I'll go get him." I ran. It wasn't far to my house, but I ran. This had never happened before. People don't go and wait in church buildings around here. How did this man even get here? Does he know he is the only African American man in this town right now?...
My announcement of this newcomer sprung my family into motion, and before long he was being fed bologna sandwiches and being put to bed. The morning would bring the details of his situation.
Come to find out he had come in on the train and then cleaned all of the pews in our church in return for any help we might give him. My dad spent the next few weeks trying to find him a job. Unfortunately he wasn't very willing to work and eventually left without a job. I hoped his next appearance in his next town would bring less shock to the person who discovered him.
Moral of the story: be a hobo if you so choose, but make proper introductions of the utmost importance.
Shar - you are too sweet. seriously. too sweet. i have to talk to you about these new Starbucks mugs they're coming out with decorated in city skylines. Remind me to ask you questions next time i see you.
had - seriously. me? listening to NPR? sounds like it's been too long since you've been graced by my presence. stuff like that doesn't work for people who have the attention span of a 2 year old. But... guess who's going to be in Boston within the next month... it's me! I'll practice my hobo skills then...
luis - i miss you too! few people make me laugh as hard as you do! but see comment for hadler... you may not have to miss me for too much longer! :)
becky - i really like your idea. it would have to be a big bandanna, though. he's not a small dog.
jas - seriously - i would have paid all the money in the WORLD to see that seen go down. peeing in my pants laughing right now!
forealdo? you? in boston?
when? where? that's amazing... please move.
yea, i knew better than to think you listen to npr -- but you are a big fat liberal, so you never know ;)!!!
...if you haven't already... you need to spend some time backpacking... really. europeans and australians have this thing that is sort of a right of passage after graduating from university called a 'gap year' where they just become a worldwide hobo... work on vineyards in france for a few months, volunteer at an orphanage in vietnam for a few more...just look around angkor wat, cambodia for a few weeks... yeah... pretty much asia in particular is FILLED with hobos ;). and everyday's bus/train/plane ride is another random series of events and a new random person to go through the leg of the journey with... but you said you wouldn't do it alone. i think doing it alone is much better actually. it pushes you. most of the time the people who travel together then just talk to one another and rarely engage with A. locals and B. random other people. but the people who i see travel alone... well let's just say i think it does a lot more for them (and maybe i am biased bc 95% of the time i go places alone cos i am a loner like that!!)... but seriously. consider it!
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