Another Monday and back to work.
The weather has been beautiful. Everything is green and the wildflowers are starting to bloom. The rivers are full and rushing along their long journey to the sea. It's times like these that I wish I didn't have to get up and head off to the daily grind.
My grandfather had only two paintings in his house. Both were of hobos. One pictured a man sitting in the shade of a large tree along a river bank reading a book. The other was two fellows, their knapsacks on their shoulders, dancing in a lovely meadow while a third man plays his fiddle. My grandfather believed that those pictures represented how life should be lived, a celebration of simple pleasures. He lived his life by that philosophy and I believe he passed it on to me along with those paintings.
Fred Holstein, a legend of the Chicago folk scene, performed quite a few hobo songs in his time. Fred died January of 2004 at the age of 61.
This one is one of my favorites of his.