Word: wheelchairs
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...bridegroom who has lost his key and forgotten his room number on his wedding night seem hopeless indeed. As he and his bride flounder around with understandable impatience, a series of personages appear, each bearing-according to Menotti-a strong allegorical identity. An old man in a wheelchair, who represents The Past, lures the groom into a cobwebby conservatory filled with jungle plants to play a possibly symbolic game of chess. Another door leads him into a drab office where a horn-rimmed boss-lady screams into a jangle of telephones and thrusts envelopes to a flunky with: "Wrap...
...tender twosome was getting its lumps in London. Elizabeth Taylor, 30, dislocated a cartilage in her left knee while on the set of her new film, The VIPs, and wound up resting her pretty bones in a wheelchair after what was described as "manipulative surgery," meaning resetting the knee. Poor Richard had his troubles too. Getting into a cab near Paddington railway station, Burton found himself competing for the ride with six narrow-panted Teddy boys. "Suddenly somebody lunged out," recounted Burton afterward. "Then a really small boy got me on the ground and I was helpless. They kicked...
...because I can't stop crying." The doctor goes on: "Are you crying because you're sad?" The patient replies: "No, I'm not sad." Dr. Diller tells such a patient that when he feels a crying spell coming on, he should grip his wheelchair tightly with his good hand. By some unexplained crossover within the brain, the motor activity of the muscles is often a satisfactory substitute for crying. These crossovers and feedbacks between physical movements and processes that appear to be purely mental are as subtle as they are mysterious. At the Philadelphia Rehabilitation Center...
...Theater, thanked Dame Margot Fonteyn for flying in from London to take the place of ailing Ballerina Maria Tallchief, posed with the cast in some pictures that looked like spun-sugar decorations on a holiday cake. She dropped by the D.C. Village infirmary for old folks, stopped by each wheelchair, saying: "Nice to see you. Merry Christmas...
...door opens slowly. Joan Crawford, her eyes bulging as only Joan can bulge them, huddles in her wheelchair helplessly and stares in horror at-good grief, what is it? Its body looks like an outsize Christmas stocking stuffed with oranges, flashlights and toy trucks. Its hair suggests bleached Brillo. Its eyes might be bloodshot golfballs. Its mouth, enlarged by lipstick, looks like a greasy old bow tie that somehow rode up over its chin...