You might ask how my obsession with hobos all began.
It all started when I saw a magnificent piece of cinematic history, The Journey of Natty Gann, in 1985, at the tender age of six. I left the theater with popcorn stuck in my teeth and a twinkle in my eye, firmly determined to befriend a wolf and set off on a train ride with John Cusack. Super fun.
Alas, my parental units did not agree with my bright idea (haters!), and dragged me kicking and screaming back to school, forcing me to consume things other than baked beans and hot dogs. They even went so far as to buy me a kitten. A kitten? Do I look like a pussy to you, Mom and Dad? I want a freaking wolf!
Hopes dashed, the years passed and since that time, I have grown a fondness for indoor plumbing and cable television and a permanent address. But I still have the heart of a hobo — I gobble up hot dogs whenever I can, only shower on a semi-regular basis and then there was that glorious afternoon I spent recently in the train yard with those two men, that package of wieners and the video camera … but perhaps that is a story for another day.
Lately I have even contemplated getting some hobo symbols inked on my body, to give hobos the sign that a “kind woman lives here” (a cat) and that I am a “good place for a handout” (a circle with an “x” in the middle). But for some reason my friends even thought that was a bad idea. Haters.
When I was asked to be the official website girl for HoboTrashcan, you can imagine my joy and rapture. How did they know I was a really a hobo, behind this glamourous front? Does it show? All I can say is, this is a match made in heaven. I hope you enjoy my hobo girl pictures … and until next time, catch you on the next train to anywhere!