I Dare to Dream

I would like to share a sincere dream of mine with you, internet.

I know that, overall, this is kind of a throwaway blog to keep me writing (mostly because no one reads it), and there is never really anything of substance. I try to make my posts meaningful (at least a little bit), but I'm just not a very serious person, and I know that that comes through in my posts.


Anywany, I want to get real with you right now.


Frodo...
Think about it.

I have a dream, and I worry that any insistance on my part that it is, in fact, a sincere dream of mine, rather unfortunately, calls my sincerity into question.

I swear to you, internet, that this is a for realsies aspiration of mine.

I want to be the Hobo King.


This could be me!

And now for a brief history lesson for those of you who refuse to click here (where they not only define hobos in hobo terms, but go into fairly good detail about hobo symbology [which is totally a thing]).

Definitely want none of this... Amiright?

In 1900, three men decided to give the town of Britt, Iowa something special, something to show that this wasn't just a town in the middle of what I'm assuming is nowhere. They wanted to bestow upon the town something that would allow it compete with big cities like Des Moines and ... I couldn't think of another city in Iowa because there aren't any.


I defy you to assert that any of those cities is legitimately familiar to you.

So, these three men, Thomas A. Way, T.A. Potter, and W.E. Bradford, enamoured with initials, were tasked with bringing renown to the town of Britt. After some consideration, they decided to bring the Hobo Convention to their fair city. They got in touch with Onion Cotton (great name) and Grand Head Pipe Charles F. Noe (great title) and informed them of the intention to have the Hobo convention in Britt. The Grand Head Pipe (which may or may not be a Hobo title) decided to scope out the grounds with the stipulation that, in "true hobo fashion*," his carfare and other expenses would be taken care of. He came, he saw, and the rest, as they say, is history.

But with hobos... hobstory.

This brings me to the crux of my post. My bid to be next year's Hobo King.**

HOBO-CROWN GOES HERE!

Now, the convention website was kind of foggy on what the actual duties of the Hobo King are, but I can only assume they involve complete, unrestricted control over the lives of every single hobo in existence.

I could tell them where to go, which odd jobs to pick up, which rails to ride, what to pack in their bindles, everything.

To contain: 1 can of beans, 1 top hat with the top punched out, and your hopes and dreams.

 

 I will be a benevolent ruler of hobos.

Or, if, as is more likely, the title is merely ceremonial and I am just the figurehead of the hobos, I shall be the greatest figurehead in all the land. The Queen of England will look upon me with tears in her eyes as I put her nation representing to shame.

Pictured: Bush league nation representing

Shame.

What follows is an open letter containing my formal bid for Hobo Kingship.

______________________________________________________________________________

To: whomever decides who gets to be the Hobo King.

Dear Hobo King Congress,

My name is Sean O'Brien and I would like to formally enter my name into the running for the 2014 Hobo King. I know, as a newcomer in this race, I have my work cut out for me, trying to follow greats like: Uncle Freddie, Minnesota Jim, Stretch, and Bo Grump. I believe, though, that I have the gumption, the hobo spirit, to lead the hobo nation with style and aplomb. I can be the leader you need. I shall rule the hobo land with a hobo fist (one that deftly clenches tenderness and compassion for my subjects).

Throughout my nearly quarter century on this Earth, I have learned many things. Chief among them is that I want to be the Hobo King so badly that sometimes when I think about it I get legitimately worried that I might pass out. I'm already great at adding hobo to words, which, I'm sure, is, like, half of the job anyway.

I hope that you will grant me the hobo-consideration that I believe I hobo-deserve.

Sincerely yours,
Sean O'Brien (Future Hobo King)

______________________________________________________________________________

Readers, I implore you. If you know anyone who can help make my dream a reality, please direct them to this blog and/or send them my letter. I thank you for your help in achieving my dreams.

Hey, if you want to know about other things I like, follow me on twitter: @heyitssob



*which seems to go against how they define hobos. They say they're people who always work to pay their way, but GHP here just seems to be a cheapo.
**I was going to petition to be crowned this year, but the convention was August 8-11, so next year it must be. When I turn a quarter century old, I shall be the king of the hobos.