Starting the Snowball Tuesday, October 2, 2007 Bangkok, Thailand Southeast Asia
Pack together some wet snow, pack here, pack there, dream of something, resume packing, lie the snowball on the grown, semi-push down and start to roll. Slowly it starts to pick up the conquered snow under its path and grows, a snowball too big to push alone has started. Stop, look around, pat you mitten together, hug yourself, take a bite of snow and scream for your best friends, - Come help me push this snowball down the hill!-
Nothing compares to having the dead end gang working to roll up American dreams, life in rural Indiana, and they call me a Hoosier.
Today, Andy, a.k.a. Me and Andrew boy Genius from India had a mutual moment, I am here in Bangkok, he is Goa, India, we are chatting away on our project, and I say, - We got the small snowball moving! - He pauses on chat, the chats, - I can feel it! -
Worlds apart, connected by Yahoo Messenger, from this way, and that way on the planet, we have been trying to start a snowball moving down the hill, and what a big snowball.
I have many lives, Andy off to Africa, Andy lying on the beach, Andy bailing Hay in Indiana, Andy going to Iraq to see what my country is doing. I am not just Andy Travel Journalger, I am what I want to be, not what anybody else wants to be. I am the little boy pushing the snowball as a child, stopping to dream, something my parents put in my eye makes me see big, to - Live a life less normal ! -
Today October 2, 2007 I can feel me and Boy Genius from India’s efforts feeling some pride in our work. We bang away, plug, push, kick, think, make all the wrong moves, he says left, I say right, we are on the same page, but all are scribbles.
We have been working on HoboHideOut.com together for about 2 years. I have been contemplating my navel for about 5 years, trying to put an idea into action. There is no amount of money a person could pay me to work on this project, I do it on faith, I think I can make a big snowball on the internet.
HoboTraveler.com is a site a person dream about owning, a home on the internet, a place for a Hobo brain, a young man that made snowmen in rural Indiana and hoped they would never melt.
Now, I can feel it, we are going to warp speed, beam me up Scotty, and engage. I am excited, life is good, and my battery is recharging, all the emotional vampire activity of traveling in Africa is left in Africa, I am now in Dreamland.
Dreams are real, they are the kinder used, to take boys and make into men, then allow the man to become a boy again. I never wanted to grow up, just cannot find how to hedge my bets by growing up, like asking to be boring.
I have work on HoboHideOut.com in my dreams, making lines on a page, clicking a mouse in my hand, clicking on this benefit, these options and trying to give the world a great way to travel the planet. It feels great to make my ideal dream of a hotel site, maybe I can stop the ludicrous wave of money hungry pages that just inflate the cost of travel, travel is cheap, it is not expensive, the shell game on the internet is like a leper, it feels like the internet some days is being lost to the boys in suits, those soulless sorts who cannot wonder or wander planet, taking all the dreams out of travel, and handing you an itinerary when you kept telling me you wanted to be free, they you pay for a boss.