"We are all humiliated by the sudden discovery of a fact
which has existed very comfortably and perhaps been
staring at us in private while we have been making up
our world entirely without it."
George Eliot
My father as a detective in a big city, observed everyone around him. He expected the same from me. If a man came by the house to see him when he was at work, he would drill me ... What did he look like ... How tall was he ... What was he wearing ... How did he act or talk? With the desire to please my father, I became an excellent reporter.
As I grew older, I carried this behavior to a greater extent. Like my father, I purposely faced the door when seated at a restaurant or gathering. I made notice of others surrounding me capturing details. If someone left, I knew it. If someone arrived, I could describe them.
Perfecting my driving skills included being aware of cars behind me, automobiles that passed by me, and unusual activity anywhere around me. Perhaps this sounds paranoid, but it is a skill that has kept me safe, enhanced my perception of life occurring, and an enhanced perception of behaviors. The inquisitions by my father made me aware of how often we assume facts to complete our expectations.