First of all, if you havenï¿½t heard, Iï¿½m getting married! I havenï¿½t done an organized announcement, so my apologies if youï¿½re reading it here when I should have told you personally. We havenï¿½t set the exact date yet but itï¿½s likely to be a while, probably March 2004. I am marrying a dark-haired, blue-eyed girl raised in Africa: Ann Fish.
Traditionally, perhaps, hobos haven’t had much luck in marriage. The Leatherman, famous in 19th century Connecticut for showing up in the same spots like clockwork every 34 days, became a hobo because he was too ashamed by his business failings to face his wife and family. Marriage seems to have brought out the worst in some hobos, like Jacob Holt. I take inspiration, however, from other modern self-proclaimed hobos who seem to be happily married.
Marriage is a bold move, I think, no matter who does it. I donï¿½t think marriage necessarily conflicts with hobo values, or that one must be a lone traveler to be a hobo. Maybe a lovesick hobo just doesnï¿½t know any better, but Iï¿½m looking forward to this next adventure more than any so far.