The Hobo Professor.

The Hobo Professor.

I was hiking one day beside the river when I met a person who I assumed to be a Hobo. That is what we used to call homeless individuals who didn’t fit into our social system. Most of these people are uneducated and considered to be “low life” but a few are remarkably intelligent showing signs of high learning and great analytical skills. An invisible sickness takes them and they no longer play our game. This person was sitting on a rock playing a guitar sounding better than a lot of the celebrated artists. I started a conversation, and he was willing to spend time with me and talk. There was no need to pretend to be what we are not since he already reached the bottom. The Hobo knew things that most people don’t and he shamelessly called himself a “Schizo”. I felt safer around him than I did in parties with the elites of our society. I couldn’t help wondering who or what he was in a past life but he wasn’t telling.

He was obviously proud of being born and raised Albertan and mentioned training in the armed forces. When he talked about flying under the radar, I wondered if he was a pilot or was talking about the way he now lived or perhaps both. I was expecting him to ask me for money but instead; he opened a bag containing a pita bread, a nice big tomato, and some green onions. While making his lunch he asked me politely if I had eaten yet. Thinking about how he may have obtained the food I declined.

He peeled a sticker from the tomato reading aloud, California. My mother used to grow the nicest tomatoes in town, he said. You ate one and the smell and taste overwhelmed you. Now we buy our produce from another country and it looks beautiful but has no smell or taste.

We Albertans always gave the country all it’s needed, he continued while eating. When they needed to tie the land together, we pioneered, built a railway and made peace with the native people. When they needed coal, we worked underground and shoveled it out for them. They needed horses, and we raised them. As wars broke out, we volunteered and fought. They needed grain, and we cleared land and grew grain. They wanted beef and our ranchers provided it. The energy boom started, and we produced oil and gas, more than anyone. Now we must weather another change and I assume we are on our own, again.

My new hobo “friend for the day” wipes his grimy face, and a thought crossed my mind, did I just meet a prophet from the bible? He looks like one. They always use us, he said, and throw us to the wolves. We no longer have farms and eat ripe tomatoes, we pay someone else for imitation fruits. They sell our oil to themselves for nothing, telling us to be happy to have jobs in producing and transporting our products into their pockets.

Hobo strums on his perfectly tuned beaten up old guitar an old tune I remember, “The house of the rising sun” (The Animals 1964) and add, we were the gamblers and they the Casino. The Casino always wins. Our leaders contributed to an orgy which made us into a “throw-away society.” We have a competition in who are the best consumers and who provides goods to be discarded. All was well until our waste began to drown us, mostly the waste polluting the air but more. Now the world can see what is happening and soon oil will go the way horses went. Already prices are lower than production costs and we are trying to sell more for less. It’s futile, he said.

We still have our crops and meat production but we are losing the business. Farms no longer provide us with a living and the cost of production is rising steadily. We must use very expensive chemicals on the land and because of Global Warming insurance is high. Now our meat production is also seriously threatened.

Naming a couple of companies one in Israel and the other in the Netherlands he described a new method of producing real meat from cells taken from animals. It is called Cultured meat and tests reveal that it is indistinguishable from meat from butchered animals. Apparently, the idea of producing meat without killing animals is very popular and it will do two things. It will cut down pollution and devastate the ranching industry and related businesses. It could be the end of life as we know it.

The Hobo was one of the most interesting and well-spoken man I ever met. Change his appearance and there would be a line of people vying for his attention.

Albertans he continued, always saved the day and never received recognition and probably will do it again. We have a business-minded government in Edmonton, he said, and they are probably working right now planning Cultured Meat industries to take the place of ranching. We could provide the materials for a new industry if we stay ahead of the game. You can see that they are working on replacing energy production from coal and oil with new modern methods.

We are not the kind of people who wait for disasters to happen without being prepared. His voice trails off and I listen to the river rushing and contemplate what just happened. The rugged-looking person whom I expected to ask me for money turned out to be a well informed learned individual. I would expect a conversation such as this to happen in the hallway of the University, not in the wilderness.

A female voice came from behind me saying “professor, we are going now.” He gathered his belongings into his old sports bag, took his guitar and wished me a good day. It's been nice talking to you he said as he was moving with athletic grace uncommon for his age.

 

Here is a link to my blog: https://thesimpleravenspost.blogspot.ca/  Feel free to check other articles and comment.