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Boy - that would be a thing to instance, the exact memory-of - conversion; the exact-moment of convincement. I think it was something along the lines, OK - I'll give it a shot. What I am doing now is not working, and I have done it all, every magic-trick I know. It was a father desertion problem.

"Step on a crack break your mother's back". That idiom was of great interest to me. Just walking in Grayslake first and second grade and you must traipse to school on side-walks, and so boring; let's make it a minefield. For how long can you do it, without forgetting and crack-stepping ? Now there is an intention-span. I intend. I still do it. Make the mundane a fun-game. There were a lot of games you could play. Counting cars by make, by color and which-one next, the guessing game. I always liked house windows. I was a peeping-Tom. "How Much Is That Doggie In The Window ?" a popular song of the time. There was never anything in the window. There was lace, shades, flowers, reflective-surfaces, and it was morning or afternoon light. In the foreground was the yard and the house all-outside. The windows were a venue to what was inside. The game of what is in there ? And there are so many other sub-divisions. Match decorative nick-knacks from yard to yard, and match those with the type of ambient domain it was. "What is that kid always doing ? Gawking at all the houses. A head-in-clouds-one that." I never heard it, or maybe it was said by secret-Teletype. They were the practical types.

New game in town. Now I am a Christian. I suppose before I had made-the-rules based on conditions in the field. The condition predicted the result, and if consistent - it was law.

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