The Hobo

So, as many of you already know, I recently purchased a ticket for my beautiful wife to go see one of her all-time favorite bands, the Jon Spencer Blues Explosion. Brenda has been in love with this band, and more specifically, Jon Spencer, for longer that I've known her. In fact, she loves the band's hunky front-man and namesake enough to have him as a rotating member of her *Top 5 List.

[*For anyone unfamiliar with the Top 5 List, the Top 5 List is a list of at least relatively famous people with whom one's significant other is entitled to "go all the way with" should the opportunity present itself. For example, Brenda's most recent lists have included Ryan Gosling and Taylor Kitsch from "Friday Night Lights." My list always has Rosario Dawson and almost always has former Russian ice-skater, *Katarina Witt. (*former skater, still Russian.) As the rules state, if a Top 5 member propositions the Top 5 list maker with any activity whatsoever, then said activity does not count as cheating seeing as though the odds of such a proposition is so far out of the realm of possibility. Understand?]

Now since this show is at a small club and my wife is a stone-cold fox, the chance of this type of "transaction" increases 10-fold. I have accepted this. And to combat the feelings of ineptitude and loneliness that I will undoubtedly feel after Brenda leaves to mary Mr. Explosion, I have devised the following plan: I am going to create a reality show called The Hobo.

Let me explain the inner workings of The Hobo. It will be almost identical to The Millionaire or The Bachelor in that I am going to essentially trick women into believing that I'm something that I am not. But whereas the guy on The Millionaire poses as some regular turd only to expose himself as a millionaire, I am going to pose as a regularturde only to expose myself as a drifter, or more specifically, a hobo. I'm going to shave my beard, hide my jaw-harp and lock away all my Tom Waits cds. And as much as it pains me to do so, I will refrain from eating *beans out of cans. (*I have never eaten beans out of cans.)

At the end of every round, I will line up all the unsuspecting women and present a stick and bindle to each lady who I feel will ultimately love me who I am, revealing tiny pieces of myself as the show goes on. You know, "accidentally" stumbling across a jar of moonshine in my fridge. Or strategically placing a *Boxcar Willie cd on a counter-top. (*I do not own a Boxcar Willie cd.) This will surely weed out the harlots who are only interested in my passion for soccer, black metal and raw fish.

On the last episode, when I pick my future bride, I will unveil my true self and the abandoned train car that we will dwell in for the rest of our lives while I spend the rest of eternity trying to figure out how Jon Spencer managed to steal my wonderful wife away from me. I think it could be a big hit. I mean I'd watch it.

So, in conclusion, I do not want my wife to leave me for Jon Spencer, or anyone for that matter, but fair is fair and he is on her list. But ultimately, I feel that it is a good idea to have a back-up plan. And The Hobo, no matter how far-fetched, is my plan. Now pass me some beans!!

Currently blasting: Chalk Circle-"Reflection"