We spoke to Trevor last night about his ambitions — we had friends over, and they were asking the kids what they aspire to be when they grow up. Trevor said he wants to be an "army man, a police officer, a cowboy," or (and here he smiled a little, shy smile, like he was showing us a glimpse of his soul) a "hobo swordsman."
We questioned him further. Most questions were met with a small, inscrutable smile. He was infinitely patient with us. Apparently, if you grasp "hobo" and grasp "swordsman," you've pretty much grokked his life plan. He likes trains, likes blades, and true to the hobo spirit, appears little concerned with a roof, or food, or money.
The world doesn't have enough — or perhaps any! — hobo swordsmen, don't you think? A story is emerging: Zatoichi-meets-Kwai Chang Caine-meets-The Twilight Samurai: a vagabond dressed in threadbare clothes, with only a sword to his name, riding the rails, righting the wrongs ...
I already have the cover of the graphic novel sketched in my mind. I can write; who can draw?
If you haven't seen The Twilight Samurai, check it out. One of my favorites. More heart and fewer arteries than typical samurai movies.
Labels: fatherhood, kids, martial arts, movies, Trev, work, writing