KB Homes didn’t grow up like most children did, or else he would be a much different man than he is today. He wouldn’t be inclined to the things that he is now, and he would not have grown up to be who he became.
KB Homes was not born as a healthy child. While mentally normal, his body was prone to sickness. It was caused by an undiagnosed allergy that his parents could not identify as such, and as a result he ended up spending much of his time indoors.
His parents were wise, however. They decided that their son had no business watching too much TV. They fed him books instead, and his mother in particular read to him every day. As a result, he learned stories first. More specifically, he learned how to recite stories, oftentimes mimicking his mother’s expressions and turns of voice. Reading, which followed soon after, was nothing more than a logical extension of what she was doing.
KB Homes didn’t really stick to children’s books, though. He wanted something more substantial, more interesting. Reading was like a game to him. So he began to read the children’s editions of the classics. He never really liked Dickens growing up, but he did like Robert Louis Stevenson and Mark Twain. Jack London was another favorite of his.
None of them, however, captured his imagination in the same that way Arthur Conan Doyle did, however. Something about his stories of the Great Detective caught in KB Homes’ imagination, and led him to continue reading him, revisiting those worlds again and again, even as he grew older.
Eventually, reading was not enough. It became insufficient for engaging his passions for the lifestyle and the bravado of this man. It became necessary to take it further and to begin exploring his mannerisms and how he could become more like them.
This exploration continues today.
KB Homes was not born as a healthy child. While mentally normal, his body was prone to sickness. It was caused by an undiagnosed allergy that his parents could not identify as such, and as a result he ended up spending much of his time indoors.
His parents were wise, however. They decided that their son had no business watching too much TV. They fed him books instead, and his mother in particular read to him every day. As a result, he learned stories first. More specifically, he learned how to recite stories, oftentimes mimicking his mother’s expressions and turns of voice. Reading, which followed soon after, was nothing more than a logical extension of what she was doing.
KB Homes didn’t really stick to children’s books, though. He wanted something more substantial, more interesting. Reading was like a game to him. So he began to read the children’s editions of the classics. He never really liked Dickens growing up, but he did like Robert Louis Stevenson and Mark Twain. Jack London was another favorite of his.
None of them, however, captured his imagination in the same that way Arthur Conan Doyle did, however. Something about his stories of the Great Detective caught in KB Homes’ imagination, and led him to continue reading him, revisiting those worlds again and again, even as he grew older.
Eventually, reading was not enough. It became insufficient for engaging his passions for the lifestyle and the bravado of this man. It became necessary to take it further and to begin exploring his mannerisms and how he could become more like them.
This exploration continues today.
