I’d almost forgotten about Vagabond Joe (as I like to call him), until someone mentioned the guy on yesterday’s blog post, “Map of Athens, 1987”. He refered to him as Traveling John, and I don’t know if that was his name or not, but I’ve come to remember him as Vagabond Joe.

      Vagabond Joe showed up at the Franklin House one day, made himself at home, and appeared to be content to stay on indefinitely. Jason and I didn’t want to be rude and kick the guy out, so we’d chat with him and casually ask where he might be headed next, and asked when was he planning on going there.
       Vagabond Joe remained a permanent fixture in our living room, until Jason and I actually packed our bags and pretended to be leaving town for spring break. We told Vagabond Joe that we were leaving, and we had to lock up the house, and that it was, sadly, time for us, and him, to go. We all left the house together, locked the door, and we waved goodbye to Vagabond Joe, who finally understood that it was, indeed, time to move on. We waited until he was safely out of sight before we returned  to the house. Once inside, we breathed sighs of relief, and reclaimed our living room.