My mom told me that somewhere around the ripe ol’ age of 3 or 4 I had informed her I wanted to be a hobo when I grew up (I’ve mentioned this before -- you’re keeping up, right?). I passed on being a cowboy or a pilot or even Superman and settled on a hobo.Back in 1954, a bum and a hobo seemed to be about the same — a hobo just felt more adventuresome. That sounded pretty good to ...
