Un recuerdo más viejo trata de cuando Lyndon Baines Johnson y yo nos dimos la mano cuando yo tenía trece años. Al contar la historia, nunca se me olvida mencionar que él tenía los dedos del tamaño de latas de cerveza.
Ahora que lo pienso, recuerdo otros tres detalles de ese día.
1. Un policía me pegó con su cachiporra y por poco me derriba mientras yo acudía a ver al presidente. Me sorprendió porque yo solamente era un esquintle.
2. Yo estaba totalmente asombrado al ver lo limpio y moderno que era el aeropuerto Sky Harbor de Phoenix. (Yo no salía mucho aparentemente.)
3. LBJ habló con el público y dijo, "Haremos florecer las flores del desierto". Me agrada decir que incluso a esa tierna edad reconocía tal lenguaje trillado. ¡Oh, no tengo más remedio que escribir eso otra vez! Es TAN malo: Haremos florecer las flores del desierto.

FROM LOCURAS

As for me, let's see... Oh, I once had a laugh
out in the desert with Alice Cooper. That's
something, but the details are dumb. An earlier
memory is of the time I shook LBJ's hand when
I was thirteen and in telling the story, I never
fail to add that he had fingers as big around as
beer cans.
Come to think of it, I remember three other
details from that day.
1. A policeman body checked me with his
billy club and almost knocked me down while I
was rushing to see the president. I was
surprised because I was just a kid.
2. I was absolutely astonished at how clean
and modern Phoenix's Sky Harbor Airport was.
(I hadn't been out much apparently.)
3. LBJ spoke to the crowd and said, "We
will make the desert flowers bloom."
I'm proud to say that even at that tender age
I recognized hackneyed language at once. Oh, I
just have to write it again. It is SO bad:
We will make the desert flowers bloom.