I may be strange. When others like to kick their legs up to relax, I demur. I have good reason: wheelchair-bound with legs that don’t hardly raise six inches without help, kicking is out, as well as kung foo or using a foot-rest to relax.
Once upon a time, a friend wrote a friend who had some influence on municipal matters. The friend of my friend wrote - emailed, actually – her friend who had a friend who had more influence than the former friend. This third influential friend coincidentally had a friend who had greater influential influence than the previous friend.
After a hazardous crossing of the automobile battle field (see the last post, “taking a walk”), I roll leisurely through the parking lot of the coffee shop I frequent – and observe the voluminous number of cars and pick-ups - others must frequent it, too – I pass the time spotting the different makes that coffee drinkers drive. There is the occasional person who wants to minimize their carbon footprint, but most of the bikes belong to the baristas. The customers are fossil-fuel frequenters.
Force of habit compels me, unconsciously, routinely, impulsively, to say, “I’m taking a walk.” (Back in the day, the sounds of those words compelled my dog to leap with joy, and scamp away to find her leash.) In reality, however, fully conscience, pragmatic, practical, I should say, “I’m taking a roll.” (my dog would have snored.)
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