I spend most of my time at my ALF (Assisted Living Facility). But when my battery-powered wheelchair is charged, I can be found bouncing along the tree-root rutted, bumpy sidewalks, and at a traffic intersection, frenziedly trying to make the walk sign before it runs down to zero seconds. Or I might be lucky enough to have a friend load my wheel chair and me into a car or van for a trip to a coffee shop, a movie, or some other latitudinal or longitudinal location away from the lugubrious ALF.
In the film version of L. Frank Baum children’s novel , The Wizard of Oz, each of Dorothy’s imagined friends has a burning desire, a craving: they all yearn for some thing (“If I Only Had A….) “The Scarecrow” wants a brain. The “Tin Man” wants a heart. The “Lion” deviates from the anatomical wish list – he wants something amorphous: courage.
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