Prototype: a single object of successful development, after trial and error. Eureka! I convinced an anti vaccine friend, after a long time, get the COVID-19 vaccine. It wasn't easy. It's the best news ever. To me. Step #1. I listened. I debunked over a dozen anti vaccine 'stories' by carefully considering them, one by one, thoughtfully responding, without judgement, politics, or ego. Immediately after my vaccine injection, I showed my friends I was not magnetic at injection site, or anywhere else. I held a magnet to my sweaty arm, and stuck the sweaty magnet to a banana, where it held for a moment, as things tend to bind briefly under some circumstances, like sweat, humidity, and such. I considered my reproductive health, and read the suggested material from my anti vax pals, which implied the vaccine was associated with reproductive harm. Then I gathered clinical research, case studies, medical journal, and statistical facts from the mot respected, prestigious, and unbiased hospitals, universities, learning institutions, and medical and scientific authorities, who proved the vaccine did not compromise fertility, or reproductive health. I tried appealing to some of the news sources where my friend's anti vaccine information came from. With love and empathy for the source, I read, considered, listened. I plotted to convince a large audience to help me sing a song to my friend in an effort to have an '80's movie' style impact. Over time, armed with good, useful information which proved the safety and efficacy of the vaccine, we made progress. Sadly, I still had to gather the world's saddest proof to debunk the final story. Young, healthy people lost their lives to COVID-19. Young nurses, health care workers, doctors, athletes, babies, without pre-existing conditions, died. I studied ground-based grassroots campaigns, successful touring strategies, like handmade flyers handed out at bookstores for upcoming events, podcasts, broadcasts, concerts, and community action. I followed world influencers for strategic modeling in multicultural, multilingual, tolerance filled advice. I priced out a dream team of a few volunteering friends to run the technical support function of a campervan across the country, covered in handprints, handing out flyers for nightly events, and daytime vaccination sites hangouts. I bought a lottery ticket. So I could buy the bus. I didn't win the lottery. Yet! I'm trying to fund a grassroots vaccination cross-country event that ends with you, my A game! I convinced a bar to sing happy birthday to my best friend, a caravan of tour busses to pray, on September 11th. I gave away my sandwich at a field trip to the La Brea Tar pits, to a hungry homeless veteran. My whole class gathered behind me, and handed him their sandwiches too. My teacher cried. It was my honor to lead the way that day. Some people are the first ones dancing, they take on the awkward moments for the rest of us. Willing to get laughed at, picked on, they walk through the door first, and hold it open for the rest of us. So I've got to get the whole country to get vaccinated, so that my best friend, who lives across the country, will be alive when we're old, so I can convince another arena to song Happy birthday, on the 90th. "It will be all my fault, to me, if you die, or end up in the hospital respirator mask, if I didn't do anything and everything within my power to help you get your shot, and maybe it'll save your life " My best friend is going to get vaccinated. Originally anti vaccine, to the MAX. My work was cut out for me! If I have to win the lottery, and assemble the A-team to launch a grassroots vaccination cross-country campaign, I will. For you!! (Best buds forever)


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