Week Thirty-Two: Hobo Party

Only 900 Miles to Go

So, let’s get right down to it, given the introductory stuff is out of the way:

A Hobo Party we’re having

Next Friday night at eight;

Come dressed like a vagabond

And bring along your “date.”

I have to agree that this is one of the snappiest invitations Cokesbury has come up with in nine months of trying. Short, sweet and to the point.

Decorations for the party, however, are pretty elaborate:

The social room or recreation room might be arranged to resemble the interior of a freight car. Sacks of straw or sand, old boxes and barrels, broken-down chairs and planks could be substituted for regular seats. Placards reading “No Loafing,” “No Tramps Allowed,” and “No Smoking” would also create the desired effect. If desired, an outdoor setting could be arranged for the party. Plants or green foliage brought in from the woods could be used profusely about the rooms. A camp fire, simulated by colored lights, with a battered pot or so, and from which place the refreshments might later be served, would add effective scenery.

You know, that’s putting me right in that good old Hobo spirit. Maybe a tune would help as well:



(Yes, I’ve used this song before. But this is more old-timey. And we all know we like old-timey. Be sure to consult your hobo nomenclature dictionary to identify the hobo code words used in the song.)

Best thing about the decorations? This final sentence:

The hobos should all be forced to gain admittance by a rear door.

You might also encourage come hamboning and eefing at your Hobo Party, just to add a bit of surreality to your old-timeyness.



This is old-timey for epileptics.

Costumes, of course, are encouraged, and I love how Cokesbury words their costume request:

Faded, patched, and much worn clothing, shoes and hats are certainly easily secured by all, and so everyone should make the most of the occasion to wear them.

This is from the era, of course, when nobody threw anything away, including tatty clothing.

On to the games:

Marathon Hobo Dance. On the floor draw a number of fairly large circles. (The circles should be numerous enough and large enough so that it is necessary to walk through them as the music plays.) As the piano plays a march all start marching around. The music suddenly stops, and all must stand right where they are. Those who are in a circle must drop out of the game. If either a boy or his partner are in a circle, both must drop out. The music is continued, and the marching begins again. Whenever it stops, those on circles must drop out. The couple remaining in the game the longest wins. A hamburger or hot dog sandwich might be awarded as a prize.

A hot dog sandwich. Really. Once again, Cokesbury trumps an odd game with an even odder prize. The game harks back to the hobo custom of suddenly dropping off the face of the earth due to some unforeseen, Grapes of Wrath-inspired tragedy, such as:



I know, it’s not really a Grapes of Wrath tragedy, but just try watching Steinbeck’s warped lips and visage in this “virtual movie” of the author speaking about the societal tragedies that led to some of the tragedies he wrote about in his great novel without squirming. I’d rather be a kitten in Lenny’s Of Mice and Men hands than ever watch this movie again.

Cokesbury suggests a few oddball games that really don’t match in with their hobo theme – a word-guessing game, a marble exchange, and such. No self-respecting hobo would be caught dead playing something called “Jenkins Up.” He’d be off with that handout quarter in a trice. So we move on to more hobo-appropriate games.

Hobos Seek a Hand-Out. Divide the guests into groups by counting off after the old army style, one, two, three, four, etc. Have about six players in each group. Give each group a name, such as rooster, cow, dog, or cat. Have each group choose a leader. Then tell the groups that they are to search for their food. The food might consist of animal crackers, small candy hearts, peanuts, or jelly beans, hidden about the room. At a given signal, all start hunting. No one is allowed to touch the hidden food except the leader of the group. When a member of the rooster team finds the food he must stand and crow like a rooster until his leader comes to pick it up. This rule, of course, must be observed by all the groups. The group finding the largest number should be rewarded by being allowed to eat all that the others have found also.

This game, of course, is more typical of tramps and bums, not of the noble prairie hobo, who of course would make a mulligan stew of the whole mess and invite everyone in the jungle to eat, not unlike in the tent village Steinbeck (for good hobo literature – for good literature, period – we always have to go back to Steinbeck) describes in In Dubous Battle. If you have never read the book, read it. It’ll make a communist bastard out of you.

Here’s another game:

Packing Time for the Hobos. Have everyone seated in a circle. The leader begins the game by saying, “I am going on a trip, and I am taking an umbrella.” Those in the circle do likewise, each one naming some article he is taking with him. The leader then tells what he is going to do with what he is taking, as “I am going on a trip and take my umbrella with me to keep the rain off.” Each of the players in turn must repeat the leader’s sentence, substituting his article for the word “umbrella.” Anyone who laughs while he is repeating the sentence must take the leader’s place in the center. This might go around the circle several times before it becomes tiresome. When the second round is started, the one who is leader then tells why he is taking his special article, and the others must repeat the words, with the exception that they always substitute the name of their article for the one the leader has mentioned.

This is of course the kinds of games hobos play when someone in the jungle puts a lot of spirits in the mulligan stew. And that Cokesbury doesn't mention "bindles" is a travesty to true hobos everywhere.

Only one thing to do now: Eat (except for the group that gorged during the “Hand Out” game; they’re busily puking up in the alley). Here’s the food. Any guesses?

If you guessed sandwiches and coffee, you’re right. Of course, However, Cokesbury does throw a loop:

The sandwiches should be of various sizes and shapes, and not the dainty, well-cut ones that we usually associate with party refreshments. Serve coffee in tin cups. Buns could also be used if they are served “hot dog” or “hamburger” style, and chocolate could be substituted for the coffee, if so desired. One group we know served at a Hobo Party potato salad in milk cans with cracker sandwiches. Later “Green River,” which was green punch, was served in the same can.

Hobos really do live the high life, don’t they? I’m having cracker sandwiches tonight.

Next time: We at Cokesbury Party blog International Headquarters will work double-time this week to present you with Cokesbury’s Christmas Party, after which we may be sorely tempted to take a hiatus until the New Year. We’ll see what the month presents. Thanks for tuning in.