If you've ever tried to name a website, you'll know that it's fraught. It’s like naming a child, except it's harder because you can't just stick your head out the window and yell, “Hey, you there, with the tin foil hat! What should we call our website?” No, you have to come up with a name that’s catchy, descriptive, and easy to remember—all while avoiding the copyright minefield that is the Wide World of Webs.

 

That's how Rick and I ended up struggling to find the perfect descriptor for our next big adventure—retirement. Well, retirement for Rick. Slightly less work for me but from wildly different foreign places. It was Rick’s plan to start a blog to document our travels, which is actually quite a novel idea if you ignore the thousands of other travel blogs that have already been created.

 

The problem was that we couldn't agree on a name. I wanted something that screamed, "We're worldly, sophisticated travelers not nearly as poor as we appear!" but, you know, calmly and rationally because we’re sophisticated. But Rick just needed something that said, "We're just two bumbling idiots who sold all our stuff and are now wandering the globe like lost puppies."

 

We spent days brainstorming, scribbling ideas on scraps of paper and arguing about fonts and whether we needed a logo. My experience in the world of work is that it is always a good idea when rolling out a new product or campaign, the first most pressing item of business is to create a new name, logo, and typeface.

 

Our first idea was to call it “Rick and Geoff's Excellent Adventure,” but that seemed like a Bill and Ted rip-off, and we didn't want Keanu Reeves showing up and going all John Wick on our butts. Plus, it didn't really capture the spirit of our journey, which is likely less about an “excellent adventure” and more about "stumbling through life while desperately trying to avoid typhoid and bedbugs."

 

Trying to break out of our ruts, we ran out to a beach café for a change of scenery. We ordered delicious fish tacos and less-than-delicious kombucha lattes. Don’t ever try one. The latte, that it. You should totally try fish tacos. They’re great. A kombucha latte, on the other hand, is what happens when you forget good tea out on the patio for days and then try to save it with some old oat milk. I think it's the drink of choice for people who hate themselves and their taste buds. Punishment in a cup. You can learn from our mistakes.

 

After recovering from our ill-fated stab and trying something new, we picked back up.

 

Geriatric Globetrotters Gone Wild? Not good for at least one of us, who never takes my his shirt off in public.

 

Rick and Geoff's World of Wonder? I’m not sure either of us could grow the requisite Victorian handlebar mustaches.

 

Silver Foxes and Fanny Packs?

 

Golden Gays on the Go: Globe-Hopping Hilarity?

 

Dapper Duo's Daring Departures and Destination Disasters?

 

No, no, and no. Why does this have to be so hard?!?

 

Later we even tried to get the cats we’re currently babysitting to help. We scattered several name options on scraps of paper around the room to let Meowzilla and Mr. Whiskers walk around and choose one for us.

 

Meowzilla just sat there staring at us unblinkingly, clearly contemplating what we’d taste like after he sat on our faces and suffocated us at night leaving us lifeless in bed until the cleaning lady discovered us two weeks later. We’re not rich. We can’t afford a cleaning lady to come in every week. Though after seeing Meowzilla’s whiskered face, I’m wondering if it’s not worth the added expense.

 

Meanwhile, Mr. Whiskers jumped right over the paper scraps onto the coffee table and knocked over a glass of water I’d left out, completely ignoring the papers. So even though they were no help at all, we added "Wet Carpet Catastrophe" to the list of potential names.

 

Then we pulled out the Ouija board for help. Aside from learning that there are at least two spirits who live in this small condo and they DO NOT LIKE EACH OTHER, it was a mostly fruitless effort. The only suggestion we could make any sense of was “Sassy Seniors on the Loose” but I think Rick was pushing the planchette and it seemed unlikely to really resonate with our target audience.

 

Yes, it’s called a planchette. And yes I knew that already.

 

This story could go on, but I’ll reward you for coming this far with us. We decided on “Modern Hobos.”* Say it carefully. And we hope you come back to visit frequently.

*Now, when we decided to name our website "Modern Hobos," it didn't really occur to us that there might be some out there who take their hobo nomenclature very seriously. I mean, who knew that there were actual, bona fide distinctions between hobos, tramps, and bums? I certainly didn't. I thought they were interchangeable terms. But oh no. Hobos travel from place to place in search of work. Tramps also travel, but they avoid work. And bums neither travel nor work.** So, if you want to get all technical about it, I’m a hobo. Rick’s a tramp.

 

**This is of course completely different than the differences between gypsies, tramps, and thieves. As I understand it, gypsies may be tramps, but not all tramps are gypsies. Tramps might be thieves, but not all thieves are tramps. And thieves may be gypsies, but not all gypsies are thieves. But if you ask Cher, she’ll tell you they’re all the same. They’re the ones the people of the town would call gypsies, tramps, and thieves. But every night all the men would come around and lay their money down.