For the sake of my dear Quilmes and its neighbors, I hope that the current administration of Francisco "El Barba" Gutierrez is still reasonably good. But since I can not say Córdoba with little basis in this regard. you assess whether large or small, but there is a spot in this administration, published a text of my authorship "The Pincharratas of Florida," in Sheet.
For those who do not live in Quilmes, clarified: The Road is a publication that reaches the neighbors along with the rate of lighting, sweeping and cleaning. In it, as expected, reporting everything you do (well) the mayor and a calendar of activities, entertainment, holidays and more.
In the August issue is innaugura a section called El Barrio in which published stories and memories of the brewer Quilmes related to their homeland.
The kickoff of the section could not be worse. But the good thing to start with a text of mine is that, inevitably, the next Delivery will be much better.
False modesty aside (if it's false modesty I put my psychologist is going to peel back a whip), I want to thank the Secretary for Social Communication, Alejandro Garcia for being interested in the text and my friend Mariela by acercárcelo.
If heaven exists, and if you went there, the Tola must be cursing because my text suggested that ortho-faced lived. But thanks to him also for having contributed to the terrain of much of my life.
something I want to be left alone in the Quilmes, my participation in The Road not cost them a dime. It would have been sufficient reason to initiate impeach the mayor, the bishop and the governor.
I also want to clarify that the typographical error contained in the text is solely responsible: me.
Another thing: it was not me who wrote the numbers that appear in the "amount payable."
If you want you can view the pdf of the number mentioned here.
Or read my story below (full version, not the small reduction due to space requested by the people of The Road):
THE FLORIDA Pincharratas
soul I'm Floridian. That is deeper than being Quilmes. It is further west.
Villa I lived 29 years in Florida. Her blue sticker with white edges, stuck on the window of my house, saying, FLORIDA.
Villa La Florida. Of the Sanjo (Instituto San José Obrero), of the 263, the Dr. Oller, the Dr. Sifre, that of the fifth where the Los Tilos Virus very focused group to prepare the May 1986 shows to your hard "Live."
all my life I bought bread at The Lark and I made ice cream by Boca Lapland Universal Bar Roberto gave me as a fan baptism as he heard the Song "its Hugo Orlando and saw parrot pass Fernando with his beard, his "dreadlocks" and tied to God knows what. And in that bar I worked, as I worked on Mejorsil.
Like the rest of the men of 7 ˚ C, 1981 I was an altar boy of St. George, with Bobbio as coach. I swear I can recite the list of men of the seventh, without the assistance of any machete, as the old ones who remember the alignment of a football team who saw in his youth: Bathrobe, Boffelli, Bruno, Coronel, De los Santos , De Luca, Fernandez, Gonzalez, Herrera, Paterak Peralta Ruiz Diaz, Solis, Telaina. And we was Jose Ernesto. In 4 ˚ we had gone Gustavo Cantero.
I queued for the telephone groups of firefighters, watched from the 844 to see if it was the old green Mercedes Adrian, played soccer in the Laga, in Cyclone, La Paco (pasture land hard and lumpy), a paddle in the 844 and rugby 880 and next to the mansion of Florida, the fifth that gave its name to the neighborhood.
The eucalyptus trees in the 844 in the first section from Camino, black cabs Crossing (a Falcon and Siam), the mural of Hannibal crossing the Apennines, the mailbox 844 and 876, the supplier of the old house Couto to his son dreamed of restoring the original Shell logo, glass.
I pulled out the photo card in Ricordi, bought paint and pork skins in Tondi, meat in Hugo, remedies or Palopoli Serovic and fruits and vegetables to Rotman.
voted in the 45, at 51, played in the plaza outside the 40 and fishing in the ditches of the back of the headquarters of the roadside. I could never stop looking at the holes in the front of the house, which I think was Claudia Sirit's grandparents, who left to attack the headquarters ERP in 1975.
11 years ago almost no floor these payments, correct me if the blunder into something.
Of all those memories covered in dust and cobwebs, one night I came one in particular (who brought tied to everyone else): the crossing Solano there was a candy and cigarette kiosk, but also newspapers and magazines. Next to what once was Matako's, who pretended to be constructed with concrete logs. Years of waiting for the 178 (C) to go to my aunt Valentin Alsina, 159 or the Rio de la Plata to the center or "coast" to go to the University of Lomas. And there was the kiosk Pincharratas . Rigorous painted red and white with different legends, but particularly prominent, were read the years of the consecration in the Libertadores. Three-time champions, he said, and listed: 1968, 1969, 1970. Boy was irresistible to spend the time looking at that face, letters, drawings of Drinking. And the face of the owner (Tola), and old, without dispatching to drop half a gesture of sympathy. I think that once I even gave a little afraid to ask me or sell a Tatín Space Captain. The front, if I remember correctly, was crowned by a shield plate. The magazines were in a green wooden display against the dividing of Matako's and newspapers on a bench, with iron plates on top for the lids do not get blown in the wind.
Out of Mouth and the national team, my greatest footballing emotions go through to see how Brazilian teams beat them. Or River, of course. That night all the excitement was on the side of Students. And while rising Veron Libertadores Cup groups I remembered that I missed reading the covers of magazines and newspapers Pincharratas .
0 comments:
Post a Comment