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Clink & Sizzle. If Johnson makes the inner commitment, decides to wage total war for the nomination, his campaign will enter the second stage of a carefully plotted, three-phased plan of action. The first phase was completed last fall, when Lyndon stumped through Texas from the Panhandle to Corpus Christi, organizing L.B.J. clubs in every county, snuffing out his guttering opposition, trussing up Texas like a bulldogged steer at branding time. It was a razzle-dazzle, Texas-style shivaree from beginning to end. At one climactic barbecue at the ranch of Pat Rutherford, an oil-cattle millionaire, 1,000 guests came from all over Texas, by Cadillac and Chevrolet and private plane (there was a separate chow line for the pilots) to see and hear L.B.J. "I have a rich friend in Fort Worth," reported Rutherford. "He flew down in a singleengine, came down low over the runway and saw 62 twin-engine planes. Hell, he went over to Austin and came back in a cab." When it was all over, the clink of campaign money was clearly audible, and Texas was branded with a sizzling L.B.J.
Exploratory preparations for Phase 2 have already been completed. A latent national organization is ready to spring to life at the word go, the Johnson weather forecasts have been charted in all parts of the nation (balmy in the South, spotty with some signs of clearing in the West, rainy in the Midwest, freezing in the East). If and when Johnson gives the word, the campaign will proceed—but in low gear. Professional TV and public relations experts will be hired, campaign literature stockpiled, and random delegates nailed down, potential second-ballot delegates scouted. The backrooms will buzz, and Johnson will do as much traveling as the Senate calendar permits. Such local engagements as Bob Byrd's campaign in West Virginia will be openly encouraged; the lOUs in Kentucky and Oklahoma will be called in. But it will be a low-pressure, cat's-paw campaign until convention time. "We don't want to go into the convention with the most strength," says Larry Jones. "We want it just as it is, with Kennedy first, so he can get out of the way."
Cudgeled Jackass. In his inner coat pocket, repository of many a national secret, Lyndon Johnson now carries 1) a poll that shows he could beat Dick Nixon for the presidency even if he lost the big Eastern bloc of states, and 2) a tabulation of his present delegate strength, which Johnson estimates at 550 votes. This optimistic figure is based on a nucleus of 319 votes from Texas and the South (the largest sure thing any candidate can yet claim), an additional 110 from the border states* and another 100 or so from scattered admirers in the West and Midwest. Despite the bitter, anguished reaction to the civil rights bill, the South is still solid for Lyndon, and his only real source of strength, because he is still the Southernmost candidate. Says an eminent Georgian: "It will smooth over. Lyndon Johnson is the only one of all the candidates I can support." Adds a Kentucky legislator: "Things have come to a hell of a pass if we can't cudgel our own jackass."