"I'm An Arkansas Hillbilly"

I was catching up with a friend on Harry's patio in the River Market a couple weeks ago when we were joined by a self-proclaimed "hobo." The man surely intended to hit us up for a handout, but he couldn't seem to get around to the task. He gave us the inside track on riding the rails instead. For instance, the third engine is often unmanned and features air-conditioning. His idea of heaven is successfully hopping on a train with a case of beer in tow. The guy seemed relatively healthy and happy, but even on my worst days I'm not tempted to join him.