Life on the Other Side of the Wall

Answering the Caller

2013-05-17T05:30:00.000-05:00

Going back to the radio show on Tuesday I did on WWKI I had a caller call in with a question regarding her son and the ability to talk to the doctor one-on-one and the inability to socialize in a school setting. I gave an answer, but I don't think I gave the perfect answer so I'm going to take this blog post and give a proper answer.

First, this is something that I have struggled with as well. If anyone ever gets me into a one-on-one conversation I usually am rather able at having the conversation without issues. Should another person join the conversation the issues will mount as I have a harder time being able to process all that is going on. Should yet another person join I will become almost unable to chime in with any of my thoughts and anything more than three people in a conversation and I will have a hard time uttering a single word. Since this is true a one-on-one conversation with a doctor is easy where as anything in the school setting would be much trickier.

Also, speaking to a doctor is a much narrow range of communication. What I mean by that is that a conversation with a doctor is usually going to be just heavy in facts. On top of that, after a while, the conversations can become a routine. A doctor may ask the same questions so it becomes almost scripted. In a school/group setting this is harder to achieve with the range of conversation being much greater and a routine much harder to achieve.

Yet another aspect is timing. This is one thing I still struggle with and timing is so critical. What timing is, by my definition, is the timing of when to speak. When talking to a doctor the doctor will speak, ask a question, and wait for a response. The doctor may also give ample time for processing. Others though, especially in a group setting, will have a much more fluid and ever changing conversation. To speak, one must be somewhat aggressive in getting their words out much like trying to navigate a busy four-way stop situation where drivers aren't really obeying the protocols. I will wait for that right moment when no one is speaking, but each time I get ready to speak someone else beats me to it.

All in all these issues can be rather confusing for a doctor because, should the doctor only get the story from what they are seeing in front of them right then and there, it may be hard for the doctor to get the complete picture. Let's take myself at a young age; I could talk to the doctor just fine. I could talk about the weather, or body temperature, and I was ahead of my years. Why would the doctor think there was anything wrong? This is a rather common story! I'm not sure what future book I have this in, but I do call it a "problem with Kansas" as, if a person only sees us in Kansas then it will be practically impossible for that person to think of us as having any challenges at all.

I hope I answered this better than I did on the air. Perhaps my answer was decent on the air, but I feel this is a much better painter picture than what I gave on Tuesday.

Radio: Then and Now

2013-05-16T11:16:00.002-05:00

On Tuesday I was in Kokomo, Indiana and was once again on WWKI's morning show, "Male Call." (You can listen to the broadcast by finding May 14th on their podcast page) I was originally on that show in April of 2012 while on my nationwide tour and it is amazing the difference a year can make.

Last year I was beyond nervous as I got to the studio and when the show started the only thing I could think of was, "don't say the wrong thing... don't say the wrong thing." I believe the end result on the air was fine, but the internal anxiety I felt was great.

Having the experience I had last year I felt much more comfortable than I did the year prior; I wasn't shaking, I didn't feel ill to my stomach, and the nerves weren't causing me to yawn every 15 seconds leading up to being on the air.

With not being so nervous I actually enjoyed the lead up to being on the air and once the program began I felt much more at ease. I wish there were an easy way to compare the two, but I know, from where I sat, it was much better.

On my drive home on Tuesday, and my drive to and from Shelbina, Missouri yesterday (by the way, the students at South Shelby Middle School were AWESOME!) I thought about the interviews, then and now, and there's much more to this than just having done it once.

Yes, there's more to this than meets the eye and what I mean by that is that I've been doing a lot of things that aren't usually what I do. I've tried many new foods this year and I'm feeling more and more confident presenting. Is it the confidence in presenting that has bubbled over into other aspects of my life? Is it the confidence from traveling as much as I have and being much more sufficient in doing things on my own? Perhaps a combination?

Whatever is going on I can feel the growth in the past year. I know if I have practice, or have done something once it is easier the 2nd time, but the difference in the way I felt at WWKI on Tuesday is much more than just having a little bit more experience.

As for now I will continue to wonder about what the difference is and I will have my time to think about it as I have a presentation in a bit then a 5 hour drive to Nashville for a USAC .25 Generation Next series race. Over 200 cars are registered and it should be a great weekend (or in the least I hope it goes better for me than it did last year!)

My Indy Experience

2013-05-14T12:07:00.001-05:00

Throwing the green yesterday was the biggest honor of my life! I hope to have a video of it sometime this week, but here is a photo that Chris Jones of Indianapolis Motor Speedway took. Also, IMS wrote a story about me and it can be read at http://www.indianapolismotorspeedway.com/redbullgp/news/show/52156-aspiring-flagman-lives-his-dream-at-ims-raises-autism-awareness/

"Are you that boy that waives that flag on that rock?" The Story of My First Flagstand

2013-05-13T05:15:00.000-05:00

After you watch this and you want the story of the flag click the video within this post.

And here is the link for the live video of practice http://www.livestream.com/indycar The start time is noon US Central time. I'd think the stream would be up beforehand.

The Green Flag of Flagging

2013-05-10T12:23:00.000-05:00

I have been super excited this week for this upcoming Monday when I am the honorary starter for the day of practice for the Indy 500. I've been thinking about what to write over and over and the only thing I can think of was what I wrote back in 2010. This was originally part of part 1 of my "Schumi and me" blogs, but I felt it right to run it again.

Also, another quick note. Yesterday as I drove home from my SEMO tour I drove past the 2nd track that I flagged at here in Saint Louis and I thought back to Frankie, who is mentioned in the blog, and I was so thankful for the chance he gave me to be his assistant... Well, I'll add more at the end...

My love of flags started early. I grew up in Indianapolis in a home that was just over a mile from the Indianapolis Motor Speedway. My dad was a pastor in Indy so going to the Indianapolis 500 was out of the question since Sundays were his primary work day.

My grandmother in Oklahoma City would always tape the race for me in and then send me the tape seeing that the race used to be on a long blackout in the Indy market. My first memory of the race was watching the 1987 race on tape. While most kids probably would want to watch the entire race, I kept watching the start over and over and over again. I think this could be one of the earliest signs that I remember that was a warning sign that I was on the autism spectrum.

But, why you ask, would I watch the start over and over again? It had nothing to do with the speed and danger of 33 colorful Indycars lined up in 11 rows of 3 all vying for position on the start. Nope. What I wanted to see was Duane Sweeney's twin green flags he waived to signify the start of he race.

I think it was a sensory thing and I loved it. I became obsessed with all things "flags." The colors moving about in the air was nothing short of bliss. Don't get me wrong, I loved the actual race, but I truly believe the initial hook for me was the flags.

In 1988 my dad took me to one of the many practice days at the Speedway and bought me a small souvenir checkered flag. I stood on the infield grandstand and waived that flag for the entire time I was there. I imagined what it must be like to be the actual flagman; the perfection needed and, of course, the grip (dropping a flag, I understood, was quite frowned upon!).

My dad's church was near the track, and I guess attendance was usually low on that magnificent weekend, but in 1989 I went to my first 500, and it was one of the biggest disappointments of my life. My favorite driver at the time was Al Unser Jr. and he and Emerson Fittipaldi got into a wreck that sent Jr. into the wall and Fittipaldi won the race. As mad as that made me it was not the reason I was disappointed. What made me mad was that we sat at the entry to turn two and I could not see the flagman.

Later in 89 my dad bought me my first real set of flags. They weren't big, and the sticks were fragile, but they were perfect for a six-year old. Those flags and I could not be separated on race days (or any other day for that matter) because I would flag along from home. My goal was to emulate the flagman that was actually at the race and it took some time and practice, but I became good at emulating the flagman, as well as hitting people with my flags as they walked by me. I couldn't help it, if the yellow flag needed to be waived, it had to be waived. (sorry mom!)

One of the biggest events in my life happened in 1990. Like I said, I loved the start of the Indy 500 because of the twin greens waived by Duane Sweeney. While Al Unser Jr. was my favorite driver, he wasn't my favorite part of the 500 as that title fell to Mr. Sweeney. My dad had a member of his congregation, Joan Petrie, who worked at USAC (the former sanctioning body of the Indy 500) and he asked he if she could get Duane's autograph for me.

On Thanksgiving morning she called my dad and said for him to, "Come over right away!" My dad thought it was an emergency so he rushed over and while it wasn't an emergency, it was major. She gave my dad an autographed picture of Duane (much like the photo to the right. This one wasn't the one I received, but it was the same photo. Change "John" to "Erin" and it would be the one I got) and then she said, "Wait a sec pastor, I have one more thing.

I wish I would have been there for that line of "one more thing" because I have heard my dad recount the story at least 1,001 times, but what happened next set me on a course for flagging stardom (if there is such a thing). Yes, what happened next was she turned the corner and got an item, came back into the room and gave my dad this:

This just wasn't a souvenir flag, or a set bought at the Speedway Museum. This was the real deal, his personal checkered flag. His wife made all his flags and when Duane heard about me wanting his autograph because I was a "BIG fan" he told her he was giving me this flag. She said she didn't want to make another one, but he insisted because, "He didn't have many fans." Since I received this flag I've only let winners of the race, and other key figures such as Donald Davidson, the track historian, who truly has one of the best memories on the planet!

In 1993 we moved to Saint Louis and in 1995 I started racing go-karts at the Saint Louis Karting Association. The story of my first race is recounted perfectly in my book so I won't talk about that, but what I will talk about is that I instantly hated the grease of racing. I have a minor sensory issue with dirt and grime on my hands and, sadly, engines don't change their own oil.

I suffered through half a year of oil and late in the season the club flagman at the time, Frankie, was getting old and some of the flags displayed did not match the situation. A 12 lap race once was 7, and instead of the checkered flag once the race ended on a blue (that means a faster kart is about to lap you). Seizing the chance I volunteered myself to be the assistant and keep track of the laps and hand Frankie the correct flag.

I was always older than my age so no one thought twice of me, a 12 year old, being be put into that position. By the following year the club's race director gave me the headset (we had a limited quantity) and you can see this in the picture. This is me and Frankie in one of the many breaks during the day and I must have been through with my races because my suit is no longer on. My race day was busy because when it was time for my race I would rush across the track to get my helmet and gloves on, and after my race I would rush back. I was a truly dedicated youngster!

On a scorching summer day in early August of 1996 the club told Frankie we "weren't racing due to heat" because of the troubles he had been having. They asked if I was ready to be the sole flagman. I had been ready since I first saw Duane Sweeney waive those twin flags back in 1987!

That first race was one of the biggest honors of my life. I knew that most places would not let a 13 year old flag a race. The responsibilities are great and there is no room for error. Mistakes can cause an accident, an injury and all movements must be precise. I was not yet diagnosed with Asperger's syndrome, but my mind loves the art of perfection and that first race went smoothly.

The following race I went back to my role as assistant and I was a little down. Frankie, not knowing I had already flagged a race weekend, asked me if I wanted to trade off races. He would do one, then I would do the other. He thought I was ready, and I took this as a sign that he was ready to step down. I think he was 80 years old and had been flagging races pre WW2!

He didn't step down and was eventually forced into retirement in the middle of the 97 season. At that time, at the age of 14, I was named chief started of the Saint Louis Karting Association and I held that position until 2008!

I am grateful I had flagging. When I was diagnosed with Asperger's syndrome in 2003 I went into a state of isolation. The only thing I really had was looking forward to the Sunday's that had a race. I had quit racing karts a couple months before I was diagnosed because it looked like I was going to make it as a professional driver. That never happened, but I had the flagging and I don't know where I would be without it.

In the original post I continued on and this was the building block to me becoming the flagman of the world's largest karting event, The SKUSA SuperNationals. However, thinking back to Frankie he could have said no to me as his assistant. The experience working with him has set everything in motion just like the flag Mr. Sweeney gave me. One thing about Frankie, I never knew his last name and don't know what became of him. This saddens me today because on that first day that I wore a headset and became part of a staff at a race track I could never have imagined I'd make it to the Indianapolis Motor Speedway. Yes, I know this is just an honorary position and it's just one flag, but this one moment has been 23 years in the making and come Monday I can assure you that it will be one of the best moments of my life. It's going to be hard to hold back the emotions as this one, singular green flag is much more than that; it's a tribute to Duane Sweeney, to Frankie, to SKUSA, to USAC, and to each and every person and organization that has given me a chance in my life.

A Puzzling Statement

2013-05-09T09:21:00.001-05:00

I had another two presentations at schools yesterday and I've noticed there's a statement I make that always gets many different reactions. For those that just see me in a presentation it is probably quite puzzling as I say, "Outside this realm of a presentation I am one of the shyest, quietest, most reserved individuals you will ever come across."

There are many reactions to that line. One of them is a look of one who is skeptical. And who can blame them? I can present with a profound confidence and am 100% comfortable in the skin I'm in and yet I tell them at the same time I'm everything but that. The second look is a sense of trying to understand what I just said. The third is my favorite; a small smile. It may be a small smile but it is an important one for sure. I make the point of saying that when I was in school I was the worst public speaker in the world and yet, here I am today. That smile tells me something big and that is there's a droplet of hope that has been churned.

Of course, I could be wrong about all of this because I am not the best at determining what facial expressions mean, but I feel I might just be right about the reaction to my puzzling statement.

A Day I've Waited Forever For

2013-05-07T05:00:00.000-05:00

I announced this on my Facebook page yesterday and I don't think I've ever been more excited about anything in my life than I am for what is to take place on Monday.

This event has been a year in the making and started with this video blog from last year

After I finished making the video I was told, "Keep in touch, we may just want to have you be an honorary starter for a day of practice next year." And guess what... They did!

On Monday, May 13th I will be the honorary starter for the third day of practice for the 97th running of the Indianapolis 500.

Being the honorary starter may not seem like much. In fact, I won't even be in the flag stand (I will however be on a platform on the pit wall very much like Pat Vidan use to have) and I have just one flag to waive and that is the green. I waive flags all the time and I can't even guess how many times I waive the green, yellow, white, and checkereds on a typical USAC .25 or SKUSA weekend. This isn't a typical weekend though. I get the chance to waive a flag at racing's most hallowed grounds.

A book I used to read and reread written by the late Tom Carnegie when I was younger, Indy 500: More Than a Race had many pictures of both Pat Vidan and Duane Sweeney who was the chief starter of The 500 who gave me the checkered flag in the video. I spent many, and I do mean many, days and nights dreaming of the day I could be at the track, in the month of May, with a flag in hand. For some people that get the chance to be an honorary starter I'm sure it's a rush; and why wouldn't it be? To be track level with the flag that starts the day is nothing short of amazing. For myself, though, this is going to be a moment that will be a lifelong dream fulfilled. It will be a singular moment that will never be forgotten and may never be duplicated. I have no idea what to expect when something has been long been dreamt about comes true. That's what this is for me. This isn't just one flag, this is playing a very minor part in what I consider to be one of the world's greatest sporting events. This is something that, even at the age of four when my dad bought me a novelty checkered flag on a day of practice I thought of. Oh, I did a number on that flag as each car passed at over 200mph and I loved thinking that maybe someday I would be the one with the flags that matter. Come Monday, for one green flag in the morning, I will be.

"Why are you here?"

2013-05-06T16:47:00.001-05:00

I just got presenting at a school here in Van Buren, Missouri. I had, perhaps, the warmest reception to a presentation ever as a group of students chatted with me for half an hour after the first of my two presentations.

My 2nd presentation was to the 4th and 5th grade and I had one of my more interesting questions. The question was, "Why are you here? I mean, there are far bigger schools and cities out there." This question allowed me to use one of my mission statements and I was more than happy to answer. I said something along the lines of:

Yes, I know there are bigger schools, and cities out there and just five months ago I spoke to a school in Chesterton, Indiana that had 1,100 students in one presentation, but autism awareness isn't just about big cities and big schools as it is needed everywhere. Every person on the autism spectrum deserves understanding and it doesn't matter if it's in a big city like Saint Louis or a town like Van Buren. The need is everywhere and I want to be in as many places as I can be in!

I don't get caught up in giving answers all that often, but this question has hung with me for the few hours that have passed. I know I'm proud of my numbers that I've spoken to, now over 24,000, but while I, or anyone for that matter, could bask in the size of the number the needs aren't limited to groups of 1,000. The need isn't just in cities, but the need for awareness and understanding is everywhere. It doesn't matter where as each person reached is the most important person ever reached. I firmly believe this and this is what drives me and I'm so thankful for days like today in which I am able to spread the word of understanding.

The Resistance

2013-05-03T05:30:00.000-05:00

There's a battle that is about to play out. I've met some of those that will be involved and I don't think they are going to waiver in their steadfast belief. There's no telling how long this battle will play out, but it is one that will be fought with many people that will form a resistance of sorts.

This battle I talk about has nothing to do with the military, sports, or territory. To put simply, this battle is over a name; Asperger's. It's been a question I have received at almost every presentation in April and that is, "What do you think of the changes in the DSM-V?" Each time I answered this question I got more and more conviction in it. First, I'll give you my answer:

What do I think? I can somewhat understand why they want to make the change with the deletion of Asperger Syndrome and clumping everything into mild, moderate, or severe autism. In a perfect world this would be a seamless transition and everything would work out just fine. However, this isn't a perfect world and so often the only frame of reference a doctor has is the movie Rain Man. I know, it sounds awful as it is 2013, but it is the truth. I also want to say this isn't a slam against the medical industry, but just one case is one case too many.

So since a doctor may not have the right frame of reference, when a family raises the question of, "is it autism?" if the child can talk and if grades aren't a problem for the age appropriate child, then what issue could there be?

While we know that autism is a spectrum, some do not. The word autism instantly brings about thoughts of the extreme. This is where the word Asperger's come in. It is the middle ground, if that is the right way to explain it. And not only is it the happy medium, but it is the word that is out there. I know it, you know it, most doctors now know it, and schools know it. It's been around as a diagnosis for almost 20 years and whereas when I got first diagnosed and barely anyone had heard of it now, well, now there are movies, books, television shows, and news specials which all in all have increased the awareness and understanding of it. And if we take that name away with the awareness we've worked endlessly to get I have to ask; what will be the result? Will a person like myself fall through the cracks? In a perfect world the words mild, moderate, and severe will be widely understood. But I fear, since it isn't a perfect world, it will take a long time.

This is where the battle comes in. At every presentation I gave in April I heard someone tell me afterwards to speak up more about it. These were all professionals in the field and many of them, not all, but many of them have said that they intend of rejecting the DSM-V. If I only heard this once I wouldn't think anything of it, but obviously there is a resistance.

There is so much on the line here. This is more than a name. I'm not one who is caught up in the name and if the original name was Apple Orange Citrus Neptune disorder I wouldn't have cared. The thing I am caught up on is that the name Asperger's is established; it is known. With the changes does this mean the name dies? Will it become wrong to use it as if I'm talking about something that went out of style? Certainly, and I hope you see this, this is more than a name. This is why there is a resistance! This isn't about the name itself but rather near 20 years worth of work of awareness and understanding. Is rejecting the DSM-V the right thing? I'm not saying that, but at the same time we can't go back to square one! If we went want a world full of awareness and inclusion it takes awareness and more importantly understanding. If professionals are having a hard time understanding the changes how can we expect the general public to grasp the changes?

The battle is about to begin and there's a resistance that seems to be in it for the long haul and I personally don't think we've heard the end of the name Asperger's.

The Problem With Cake

2013-05-02T12:39:00.002-05:00

It is widely known that those on the autism spectrum often have a hard time with figures of speech and the like. I personally don't have a horrible time at this, but there are a few saying out there that I have trouble with. However, when it comes to certain proverbs I have a horrible time and there has been one that I've heard for a long time but never thought of until last Friday.

I was sitting in the score tower at the quarter midget track at Napa Raceway outside Alburqurque when I got to thinking about the line, "You can't have your cake and eat it too." This line makes no sense on a literal level because if you were to have the cake wouldn't that entail you eating the cake? I mean, what good is cake unless you are going to eat it? Of course, if it's an awful flavor one wouldn't want it at all.

So you can't have the cake and eat it too. I struggled with this and it was the only thing my mind could think of because I was trying to find the logic in it which my mind was convinced there was none. And the more I thought about it the more it made no sense.

Minutes went by and I thought for a second that this might mean that, once you eat the cake it is no longer there. But, what happens if you only eat on piece of a whole cake? The problem with proverbs and figures of speech is that we can view them visually and literally; there may be a valid point that is brought up in a proverb but it's going to be lost. A good point on that is, "don't look a gift horse in the mouth" as the last horse I looked in the mouth didn't end so well.

I eventually came to the conclusion that the flavor of the cake doesn't matter, how much cake doesn't matter, the only thing that matters if that you can't have your cake and eat it too. What this meant was I was right back to square one having no idea what it meant. So out came my phone and to the Internet I went to try and decipher the meaning of this cake.

The origin of this cake dates back to 1546! This was news to me because that was a long time ago and who knew they had cake back then? If you said that you did that's fine, but I had no idea. This little fact that meant nothing because cake now or cake then is irrelevant because why can't a person eat it and have it?

I finally read one line that made everything make sense and it wasn't that difficult. You see, the problem with cake is that it's complicated and can have multiple layers (Ha! That line just happened randomly. I swear.) whereas it would be so much easier to say what you mean and mean what you say because this line I read translated this cryptic saying by stating, "you can't have it both ways." Now was that overly difficult to explain? Why come up with some saying that can 1. make you hungry 2. makes no sense and 3. can be explained in a much simpler format? It makes no sense to me and this is the essence of why there is now a serious problem with proverbial cakes.

Bridge Concept

2013-05-01T11:17:00.000-05:00

From the first time I sat down to write I never thought or claimed to have "the answers." My goal was always to explain the way the mind on the spectrum works and I've done this through analogies, metaphors, and my stories. It's been a while since I came up with a concept but during my 1,000 car drive on Sunday I got what could be one of my favorites.

Let's say you're driving on an interstate and up ahead, say, about five miles ahead is a bridge at the crest of a hill. Getting to that bridge is your destination and you drive with a obsessive focus never wavering on the sight of that bridge. You are so focused that the amazing canyons to your left are irrelevant. You are so focused that the winding stream with all sorts of animals drinking from it on your right isn't doesn't even cross your mind. And, you become so focused on your destination that you don't notice that the road is actually closed half-a-mile ahead because the only thing, the only thing that matters is that bridge that lies ahead and anything else just simply doesn't matter.

This is the way the mind with Asperger's may think. It's been a resounding story that I've heard this year and I was that way (okay, I still may be this way at times) when I was younger. The story I'm hearing most for parents is that their child is confused as to why they need to learn so much "irrelevant" stuff in school. "If one wants to be a computer programmer why must one learn history?" is one variation of what I've heard and that completely goes in line with driving towards that bridge with no regard for anything else because the only thing that matters is the destination.

The way this plays out in life can be positive but also it can be highly negative. I would say that this bridge/goal and Kansas (the main concept of my book) would often be close if not the same and since "if you were paralyzed in every state except Kansas, where would you want to live?" is true, that then means this concept of getting to the bridge is the only thing that matters. This can create an enormous drive to reach one's goal, but this too can mean that this drive will create a blindness to everything else. If a person only looks far into the distance one will miss the hurdles of today and be fully unprepared once and if they arrive at the destination.

I hope this has made sense. If you haven't lived life with having one goal and everything else is simply irrelevant I don't know if this driving metaphor can fully be understood. For most people the canyons, streams, and road outages of life are registered and dealt with. For us on the autism spectrum, however, we can become blind to everything except our goal. This sometimes may make us seem arrogant, aloof, or rude but for us we have no idea this is how we are coming across because we are just on our way to the bridge off in the distance. So you can tell me about that canyon, you can tell me about all the animals that were playing in that stream, and you can warn me about the hazards that lie between me and my goal but what does it matter? I'm on my way and the only thing that matters is that I reach the goal.

Positional Warfare and The Confidence in Others

2013-04-30T10:49:00.002-05:00

It's been a while since I talked about the "positional warfare" so let me begin my stating what that is. There's a phrase out there that says, "people on the autism spectrum may appear uncomfortable in their own skin." I refer to this as the "positional warfare" and what that means is that, quite simple, I don't know how I should be in the space I'm in. It's like an itch that can't be scratched and no matter how I stand, and no matter how I have my arms and any other part of myself, nothing seems right.

Now looking at my title of this blog how does this positional battle and other people come into play? This happened rather frequently when I was younger and in school, but when I saw other kids move about in the classroom with confidence, or had complete control of their bodies playing soccer or basketball, I always became even more conscious of the fact that I had no idea what I was doing.

No idea, what does that mean? I mean this as literal as possible; there wasn't a second that I wasn't thinking about where I was in the space I am in. To watch others move effortlessly and without thought always made me more aware that I couldn't do that. I always tried to "try harder" when I saw other people move and anytime any person tries to think or try harder nothing good comes from it.

I remember always thinking, "how can they do that?" because every one of my motions is thought of, and analyzed, then debated, then acted upon while others always seemed to move with an air of confidence that couldn't be contained. Perhaps they didn't have confidence at all, but that is irrelevant because I perceived it which always made me feel rather small.

I have talked about others and I don't want you to take this as if this is any sort of complaint about those who moved with confidence. It's not. But my perception of how others moved about is the key thing here. I know, back then, I would have given anything to be able to just move, walk, stand, or sit with that same confidence. It became absolutely tiresome trying to always appear as if I were comfortable when I was not. And at that age I had no way of expressing this at all, and the fact that I wasn't diagnosed yet didn't help either but even still, had I been diagnosed, I don't know if I could have explained this.

This is a topic that, unless you've felt it, I'm not sure you can appreciate just how big of a deal this is. Imagine always have a self-conscious part of you that can't be satisfied because you don't know what is right or wrong in terms of walking, standing, and posture and the harder you try to fit in the more awkward the whole situation becomes. This is the essence of the positional warfare and for myself, when I was around confidence, or rather perceived confidence, it just got worse and I had no idea why and no idea why I was different.

The Case of the Missing Clicker

2013-04-26T06:00:00.000-05:00

I’m now in Albuquerque to work a race but there is only one thing on my mind. It isn’t about the flags, the speed, or even where I am as right now, this very moment, the only thing I am thinking about is the little black hand held clicker that I have currently lost.

                This is more than just the device I move my PowerPoint slides with as it is also my flash drive. I have most of my files on my computer but there were a few that I didn’t have backed up so that too is weighing on my mind.

                Where could it be? This is what I keep asking myself. I used it last at a high school in southwest Missouri so perhaps I left it there. Maybe it fell out of my computer bag at the office yesterday. That is a possibility, but I’m leaning towards the high school and if that is the case did someone find it or was it discarded?

                The timing of this ordeal is odd because just a few presentations ago I was asked, “Aaron, what is it like when you are trying to do something, find something, or something just isn’t right?” I’m at that point now and right now all thoughts are on that device. Clearly the associative memory system is in play right now as that device is more than that to me. I’ve been coast-to-coast with that and it was my first one of those, those, I’m now actually sure the right name for them besides “the black PowerPoint clicky thingy” but right now it’s missing is the only thing on my mind.

                In a way, I feel consumed by this because, for one, I don’t normally misplace things; and most certainly not something as important as this. I keep replaying the end of my presentation in my mind and I’m sure I had it in my hand; “Okay, get the flash drive, put it in the device with the unknown name, and get it back in my bag ASAP because you don’t want to lose it.” That’s on my mind every time; if you’re at one of my presentations take note on how methodical I am at making sure this is one of the first things I do. Yet, since I do this how do I not have possession of this thing?

                So back to the question the parent asked; imagine no matter what you do or what you think there is always this bright red alarm light in the back of your mind flashing. No matter how hard you try to brush it aside, there it is, flashing with the alert that something is wrong, amiss, and out of line.

Only the future knows what will become of this. I’m off to a race track today and am unable to call to see if I did, in fact, leave it there. Maybe it’s in the lost and found? Then again maybe I took it out of my bag at the office yesterday and there it is, sitting innocently on my desk oblivious of the panic I feel over it. Well, it is an inanimate object so it wouldn’t feel anything as is, but as void as it is of emotions I have a deep sadness as if I’m missing a friend. Hopefully I get a text or e-mail today that says this friend of mine that has been with me for almost 200 presentations is found alive and well.

Home... For a Moment

2013-04-25T11:02:00.001-05:00

Wow! What a journey this month has been! After two more presentations I made it home last night and it felt so utterly bizarre. I woke up this morning and had no idea where I was. When I began with my job this would occur when I was in hotels but now, well, I get this feeling when I am at home.

But yes, what a journey it has been. This month has been busier than last year's April when I did a nationwide tour and what I've been amazed at is the fact that I've maintained my energy levels. I will admit I did take a 30 second nap in a chair at the Willard High School yesterday before my presentations (I never can take a nap or nod off so that was a first) but in terms of actually presenting that has been no slippage in terms of quality or energy.

I'm actually at the office today but later this evening I'll be on a plane headed to New Mexico to work a race. For me, the time spent at the track, despite how physically engrossing it is, is my time to relax.

And with that my writing ability, today, has come to an end. I've heard so many stories and have come up with several concepts the past week in presentations but when I am this busy writing is something that isn't easy for myself to do. Hopefully tomorrow words come easier and I can have a more relevant post, but today it just isn't happening.

Going On

2013-04-23T09:03:00.005-05:00

My apologies for the lack of a blog yesterday but I had a morning presentation in Springfield then a drive to Joplin then a evening presentation and I just didn't have the time. The issue just wasn't time, but also energy. I have been in the midst of my busiest schedule ever with doing 13 presentations in the past 14 days and after today it will be 15 in 15!

I have impressed myself in this stretch, however. I didn't know if I would be able to find the power within me to keep my energy levels up to be able to give a presentation that is worth anything, but I have. One thing I haven't mentioned in a while is the internal energy it takes to present. It's much more than just speaking as for me now it is using every ounce of my mind and soul to deliver the words. It's hard to explain but I've gotten to the point that I present without thought which achieving that mentally takes a lot of energy.

A big factor in keeping my energy levels up has been the amazing response down here in southwest Missouri. Last night I heard two of the most powerful things I have ever been told. The timing was perfect because I, before that presentation, was battling exhaustion. To know I'm having a major impact though, that makes what I'm feeling know irrelevant. The only thing that matters is pushing on. The only thing that matters is delivering the message of hope. And with that I'm on my way to the first of two presentations today.

"What?" and the meaning of tone

2013-04-19T05:19:00.000-05:00

The title of this blog is important. Sadly, because the medium of writing doesn't allow me to use tone, I'm going to have to explain in rather great detail why such a title is so important. I've mentioned this several times in recent presentations and a couple nights ago I came up with the ultimate description as to the answer of "what?" First, I have to explain what the big deal with what is.

It seems I am not alone in my usage of what because when I mention this parents smile and nod. So okay, let's say you enter a room where a person with Asperger's is doing some activity be it reading, writing, watching television, or playing any of an infinite amount of possible games and you say their name, in my case, "Aaron." What type of response are you expecting. So often I would respond with a "what?" but what you can't get in text is the tone.

The way I said "what" was never in the tone of, say, the way a game show host would start a sentence like, "What president..." nor did I use it like a parent would ask, "What would you like for dinner?" The way I delivered "what" was in a tone that implied an irritation or anger. It is in this description that parents often agree with me and here's the thing; there may be some irritation and there may be a hint of anger but it isn't directed at you?

Okay, so what is this frustration directed at? First, I have to state my disclaimer which I haven't in a while and that is, "if you've met one person with autism then you've only met one person with autism." so this means that what I'm about to say could apply 100% or it could be 100% opposite to the next person you meet. Anyway, at least for myself, my delivery of what in an tone that hinted anger was never meant to imply that I was angry at whomever had just spoken to me. Here's the thing; focusing and concentrating for me is a fine art. When I am focused on something it is hard to unfocus and that being the case when a person comes in and says my name I am having to redirect my attention which requires more mental energy than you can probably appreciate.

When I change my focus it requires energy and it's in this redirection that causes my tone to sound as if I am angry. A couple nights ago while presenting in Clinton, Missouri I came up with a way to describe it; if you are about to pick up something very heavy you may let out a verbal grunt as you exert all your might to move or pick up whatever object it is. So too does this apply, for me, when I am changing my attention.

I fully understand why parents and teachers get upset with us and our tone but quite often you can't go by our tone because it might not be directed outwards but rather inwards. There will be times when you say our name and the tone of our response may be that of anger because it is, but for me, most of the time, it isn't directed outward but is my body adjusting to the change. This is easy to remember; change is difficult and changing focus requires mental force just like picking up an object requires physical force.

This is something about the autism spectrum that I don't think has been touched on all that much. I hope this little post on the matter will open the eyes of anyone and everyone on the matter because I'm sure there have been countless times a person has responded with what appeared to be a hostile tone when no hostility was intended so please just keep this in mind and be on the look out for this because I know I'm not the only one who has irked his parents by stating, what I thought, was just an innocent, "What?"

On the Air

2013-04-18T17:25:00.000-05:00

Okay, I'm between presentations after driving all over southwest Missouri today but I thought I would let you know that I'm going to be on Siruis/XM Radio Channel 81 tomorrow at 7:30 US Central time. This will be my first radio interview in a while so I'm excited and a bit nervous. Be sure to tune in!

The Tale of The Man Who Liked My Shirt

2013-04-17T06:18:00.000-05:00

In my brief time in Saint Louis yesterday I had to run to a bank to make my second house payment. For some odd reason my mortgage went from one bank to another but on my way home from the office I decided to see if I could make the payment by stopping at a branch instead of mailing it in. While this may seem like a common sense thing it wasn't for me because I had never done this and I had never gone into one of this bank's branches.

So I walked in nervous as could be. Heck, the entire drive to the branch was one filled with nerves as I kept thinking to myself, "What do I say?" and I recited, "Can I make this payment here? Or do I need to mail it?" aloud many times. What would be a non-event for most people can be a challenge on par with climbing a mountain as new things are just tough.

I got the to teller and I stumbled on my words, but I put the payment coupon and my check out and that was enough and the teller processed it and I got a receipt. Here's the thing about this post, the actual topic starts now.

With the receipt in hand I turned around and headed out the door. I beat a person that was coming in by about half-a-second so as I exited I held the door open and the man said, with quite some force, "Hello."

Hello... I don't know if there is a scarier single word than that. It is the portal that opens up the realm of conversations. Hello isn't that bad when said from a friend or family member, but to a complete stranger the word "eerie" isn't eerie enough to describe the absolute eerieness of a hello.

I froze for a moment as I processed the meaning of hello. Truly, I had to think about it because a random hello from a complete stranger isn't normal. Or is it? I'm pretty sure it isn't so I had no idea what to do. Truly, picture me holding the door frozen and lost because that's what I was.

A few seconds passed and he started heading back towards the door and I started walking out and he said, "Hey!" Okay, if there is something that's worse than hello it's a hello followed by a hey because there is ALWAYS something that follows a hey. I mean, does anything just say "hey!" without saying something else?

I tried to ignore the hey but it was no use. He then said, "Wow! I really love your shirt" and as he completed that sentence he took his index finger and poked me in the shoulder and walked around me and into the bank. I remained frozen.

I've had issues with being touch on the shoulder before and I stood there, in front of the bank, frozen, angry, confused, and in shock. What just happened? Strangers don't say hello, they then don't say hey, and they most certainly DO NOT POKE A PERSON ON THE SHOULDER BECAUSE THEY LIKE A SHIRT!!! Was I yelling? Sorry, but I guess this offsets the self-control I exhibited yesterday when this happened.

Okay, I'll be honest, my purple shirt is kind of awesome. It's my favorite shirt, but I know there is a social rule out there that says, "a person that likes another person's shirt is not allowed, in any way, to poke the person wearing the shirt." What, there isn't a rule like that? There should be!

I eventually wandered to my car and I got in and I just sat there in a daze. One thing I forgot to mention is that my body went into a severe defensive state. After the poke my muscles clinched up and a huge shot of adrenaline rushed through my system. I'm sure the man had no intentions of creating such an episode as the only thing he knew was that my shirt came from awesometown, but the end result was a huge shock to my body and a lingering sense of frustration and tiredness.

In this post I have shown a side of humor, but the event, as it happened, was anything but. I'm glad I can throw that spin on it as I write it now, but it is difficult, unless you've experienced, to understand what each segment of this encounter, in terms of anxiety, caused. Most people can handle a hello from a stranger, I struggle with it. Most people won't panic when "hey" is said but I go into complete panic mode. And most people won't have their bodies defenses get triggered by a person who just wanted to feel what the fabric of their shirt feels like... okay, maybe this is something that spectrum and non-spectrum people share, but the lasting effects I felt took an hour to clear up.

I'll finish this post by saying this; dear world. I know some of you out there are fans of shirts, and that's fine, but if you see a stranger (or me for that matter) and the shirt that person is amazing I plead with you that poking is not an acceptable way to say you like a shirt.

A Changed World

2013-04-16T13:15:00.000-05:00

I... I don't know what to say or how to say it. And, I don't know if I want to say anything or if it is right for me to say anything at all.

Yesterday I flew home. I left Tucson and got to Dallas right around noon. During my one-hour layover I was having some fun chatting with four of my friends in this great Facebook chat. It was truly a good time ribbing Ryan about how great of a driver Jimmie Johnson is. I enjoy this way too much but eventually I had to board the plane and 80 minutes later I landed in Saint Louis.

As soon as the plane touchdowned I turned my phone back on waiting to see what further hijinks had gone on in that chat and what was a good light-hearted chat was filled with, "What's going on in Boston?" I certainly had no idea because I was cut-off from the world while in the air but these words I were reading made no sense.

I quickly went to news media websites and I still couldn't comprehend what I was reading. The emotions slowly crept in and I've been in a state of being lost ever since.

This has been my reaction to events my entire life. And as I said, I don't know if it's right for me to write about such a topic as the events of yesterday, but at the same time, for many people on the spectrum, this is the first event like this in their lives. When events were on the news when I was young I fully understood what was going on. Did I let anyone know? Not really. Did I express my fears? Most of the time the answer was no, but the sense of fear was great.

The sense of fear can grow and grow. Random, senseless events can't be understood but when a mind needs to understand everything there is a great sense of confusion and fear. Even now I'm experiencing this which is why I just don't what to say or how to say it.

I don't know what to do, or what to say, but if you're a parent please just be aware that events like the senseless act yesterday can have a major impact. I wouldn't know what to say, or how to say it, but please be aware that even though, and this applied to myself, I may have acted like I didn't care I was actually deeply sad and terrified of what might happen next.

A Feeling of Normal on the 5th Green

2013-04-12T04:32:00.000-05:00

Yesterday morning I had a presentation to a great audience. It's been nice this week presenting between races here in Arizona. After the presentation I had an afternoon free so I called this golf course that runs along I-10 to see if they could get me on. I had driven by this course three times in the past 13 months and each time I had severe golf envy. It was my lucky day as they would be able to get me on. The catch? I'd be playing with three random strangers.

I love when I get to travel across Missouri because so often I'll play in towns where the courses aren't busy and there's little to no chance of a social situation playing out. This round, however, was going to be a golf outing with no chance of avoiding a socializing with people I have never met before.

Nervous? Just a couple hours prior I stood in front of 40 people I had never met, never seen, and spoke for an hour about my life and personal examples of living life with Asperger's Syndrome. That was easy. Playing golf with strangers? I was petrified!

I got to the course, rented some clubs, and proceeded to my golf cart. I was looking all around wondering who I would be paired up with. If you've followed my blog for a while you will know that I have not had the best of luck with other golfers as I've had no less than four posts talking about the rudeness of people I have come across on the golf course. I was hoping, no, praying that I wouldn't be paired up with golfers like those because that would make for the longest 18 holes known to man.

I was seated in the golf cart, on the passanger side as that's where my clubs were, and I waited. Eventually a person came around and looked at me and said, "You must be the random person that's playing with us." I didn't know how to take that as if this was a joke or if he was a little peeved that a random person had been matched up with him and his group.

If it was mean there was no indication afterwards as we headed to the first tee. He asked me if I had played the course before and when I said no then he asked me if I was from Tucson and I said no again so then he asked me where I was from, I said "Saint Louis" and he laughed. Here was the thing; the three people I was playing with had a business associate who was supposed to be playing with them but he didn't get out of Saint Louis, where he is from, so what were the odds? They were supposed to be playing with a person from Saint Louis, and they got one, just not the one they were expecting.

That conversation, I believe, broke that ice. We approached the 1st tee and my breath was taken away by the beauty of this course. These views were nothing like what I saw from the interstate and this was nothing short of golf awesomeness.

On the tee box of hole 1 the person I was riding with introduced me to the other two people and off we went. I was reserved for a bit, and the three of them didn't push me to talk or ask too many questions, but by playing the sport of golf, and being unlike the rude golfers I have encountered in the past, I felt confident with my words.

On the fourth hole I was asked what my day job was and I explained and told them I travel all across Missouri which then I was asked, "Ever been to Nevada, Missouri?" Again, talk about a small world! I've presented there twice and I believe I'm there next week or the week after. Two of the golfers I was playing with went to high school there.

On the 5th hole I now felt like part of the group; as if I belonged. It was an odd feeling, one of which can't be explained in the manner it deserves unless one has felt it. I didn't feel like an outsider, or a person from out of state, or a person with Asperger's; what I felt like was a person who was enjoying a round of golf with three other people and trying to make sense of the sport of golf. Is this what normal is?

The round progressed and with each hole I knew it was one step closer to the end. This sense of fitting in with people I don't know is rare for me; it's even rarer that those people around me understand my humor and my dry comments are laughed at.

As things always do, the round came to an end. This is where Asperger's showed itself. As soon as the round was over I started to receded back within myself. When the golf carts were dropped off I stood, awkwardly I might add, and eventually said something along the lines of, "thanks, it's been fun." and they acknowledged it and then the guy I rode with said, "Want to come in and grab a beer?"

My reaction to that question was a simple no as I don't drink. It wasn't until I was about two miles from the course in my car that I realized that question was more than just a question on a drink as the drink was probably irrelevant as the question has more to do with the interaction with the person than it does the fact of consuming liquids. As great as I felt on the course I now felt a sense of remorse at my obliviousness to the social aspect of that question.

Another thing that I need to mention is the fact that, in the midst of the nerves and all, I don't know any of the other golfers' names. They told me them, I heard them, but with all my nerves and processing names aren't something that take a high priority. They should, but they don't.

At the end of the day, for those golfers, I'm going to be an after thought; a random golfer that filled out their round. Maybe they learned something about the autism spectrum, perhaps not, but for people not on the autism spectrum the art of socializing comes much more easy than it does to myself. For myself, though, being able to socialize and to feel comfortable is a rare thing. That round of golf was more than a round. Sure, the course was one of the best I've ever played but my round quickly became more than hitting a small ball around trees, sand traps, and trying to hit into a small hole in the ground. Yes, it was much more; it was 18 holes of feeling free. Those golfers may not know it, and will probably never find out, but my round of golf, even though I shot poorly, was my best round of golf ever.

One year later and the one year without barks or meows

2013-04-11T05:55:00.000-05:00

Today marks the four year mark of saying goodbye to a best friend. I was going to write something then I remembered that everything I wanted to say I wrote back in a post in 2010. That being so I decided to republish that post and run it today. The post below originally ran April 11, 2010. Also, this is timely because I am thinking about getting a pet. I'm not close on going through with it, but the door has been opened to the possibility of getting one.

I can't believe today marks the day of one year. One year ago I had to have the last of the three pets I had put to sleep. I had a chapter about Amsterdam (the cat, not the city) in Finding Kansas and when my 2nd book comes out you will, again, be brought to tears with the story of Siam (again, the cat, not the former name of Thailand). This entry though is about what it has been like living without an animal.

When I was five we got Missy the Maltese, and then when I was nine we got Siam and Amsterdam. I remember events before my pets, but I don't remember a time in the house that there wasn't a dog or cat somewhere near by me.

For me, I need animals. There's a connection there that I don't share with other people. Eye contact comes easily and I seem to have an understanding about animals and they in turn are attracted to me. Last Friday I saw Greg's black lab, Annie, for the first time in five months and the barking and jumping she did to greet me was nothing short of crazy. I love it though and am put to ease by the sense of love that animals show.

There's nothing now at home. I shouldn't say nothing as there's a golden retriever, but she doesn't have much time left. Also, big dogs don't do as much for me as they aren't the type of animals that show the same sort of affection that smaller dogs and cats do.

People stress me out. People are inconsistent and have mood swings and it's generally tough to determine where I stand with other people. With animals though there is consistency. By an animals posture or eye movement one can know if they are happy or tense. People have hidden agendas, animals don't. People, including myself, stress about what happens tomorrow, an animal experiences heaven by simply being in the presence of those that they love (and being fed by those that love them!).

It's been rough this past year without a cat sitting on me while I watch the world go by, or a dog to greet me as I come home. Siam had a personality of a dog and would bark his meows. Truly, one could have a conversation with him. I know I had many.

In January I watched two dogs and from the moment they came into the house they were attracted to me. In was almost an inconvenience having two dogs on my ALL the time. This daschund was quite feisty with me. Cookie was her name and she, being longer than she was tall, couldn't jump up on my chair. She let me knew her displeasure of being on the floor with her ear piercing bark, so I picked her up and she was in paradise. She had me trained!

Cookie, and Cocoa, were on me all the time and on the first night they jumped up on my bed and slept at the foot of the bed limiting my space. I had a back ache the next morning, but it was worth it. It had been 9 months without that and I was happy.

The happiness was all too short lived as they went back home one week later. My connection to other beings on this Earth was severed and I was alone again.

The name of this blog is "Life on the other side of the wall" and the meaning behind it is that, when it comes to people, I feel s if there's a wall between us that prevents me from feeling a connection. I'm confident thought that cats and dogs live on the side of the wall I'm on because there is a connection. I freely, without thought, use the mysterious phrase of "I love you" with them.

It's not fair. It's not fair that dogs and cats can have this much power of me. It makes sense though as they are consistent and, well, they're just so soft and squeezable. I miss Siam more than I can put into words. I no longer am everything to an animal, and there are no animals that mean everything to me. They are all a memory now, and a foggy one at that. I don't remember animals much like I don't remember people. There's one thing I can remember though, the feeling of love, but that's all that it is now, a memory.

Dreaming of Normal

2013-04-10T12:10:00.000-05:00

I didn't want to wake up this morning; I truly didn't. And why would I? The dreams I had last night were to the point of seeming real and most of all, in the dreams, normality was a reality. First, let me state that I am beginning to believe there is no such thing as normal but at the same time normal is something we chase and when a dream shows me everything I'm not then, well, it's rough.

The way to describe my emotions this morning is bitter. It's hard enough to go through each day witnessing everyone else's normal let alone having dreams that sheds light on what it would be like to be normal.

Forgotten at this moment is everything I am. I am in that awful trap of, "when a person sees what they aren't they forget who they are." That's where I am. The only thoughts I am having are wondering what my life would have been without Asperger's and how normal people make normality look so easy.

I know I do amazing things. I don't think many normal people could do what I do presenting to the audiences I do or stay sane with my travel schedule but at this second I don't really care about that. To use my blog title as a metaphor, I'm like a person on one side of a 500 foot wall that all his life I've heard stories about what it is like on the other side. The fields are greener, the sun is brighter, the air is crisper, and the villages are friendlier. However, no matter how hard I try, there is no doorway, no ladder, and the wall stretches in both directions as far as the eye can see.

To me, often times, that is what normal is like. It can be explained, it can be talked about, but what truly is on the other side of the wall? Then a dream comes along which has almost a simulation of what it is like. Of course, this is my mind's assumption of what it would be like, but if you were on one side of the wall and heard all those wonderful things, and for a fleeting moment in a dream you saw the other side I am sure you would feel like I do right now.

This is something that I've heard from parents. This isn't a common theme, but it is something that I've heard more than a couple times in that children (or adults) are afraid to go to sleep not because of nightmares but because of the normalcy experienced within dreams.

When something is thought of and wondered for long periods of time it becomes more than what it is. This is the formula as to why "when a person sees what they aren't they forget who they are." The world on the other side of the wall becomes such a grand place that I am sure my envisionment of normal is far beyond what it actually is like.

If history repeats itself I'll spend the day wondering about what normal is like but over the course of the day I will slowly return to my normal (ha!) self. That's the cycle I live with. There are these times I wonder and care about more than anything else in life on what normal is, but most of the time I'm not there. It just takes one reminder, or a dream, to remind me that I am on one side of the wall. Think of it this way; I never described what's to my back when I'm facing the wall. There's a whole world on my side as well and it isn't that bad. It's just when I wonder what is on the other side that my whole world becomes defined by a wall.

Soar

2013-04-09T20:01:00.000-05:00

My time out west has now shifted from Phoenix to Tucson, but yesterday evening's presentation. The turnout was strong despite winds, puring rain, and even hail (in Phoenix? who knew!) and it was a huge, huge, HUGE honor that one family drove three hours to hear me speak.

Today I drove to Tucson and I don't know what it is but there's something about driving across this part of the country that just makes me feel as if I am soaring. I just get this amazing sense of freedom from it. Well, I get that feeling anytime I'm driving, but it's special out here.

I have an off day tomorrow and then a presentation on Thursday to a group that will be an honor to present to then come Friday it's round 1 of the SKUSA Pro Tour.

Other than this I don't have much to say today.

Eras Frozen in Time

2013-04-08T13:53:00.001-05:00

My weekend was eventful. On Saturday I was up on South Mountain for round 1 of the USAC Generation Next series. It was amazing to be back at a race track. It was a hectic day, but a much needed one.

Yesterday I then got a rental car and departed the USAC crew and went up to my hotel as they're headed out west to California and I'm remaining here for a presentation tonight. The hotel I'm staying at, though, is the same one I stayed at last year when I was doing my nationwide tour.

Being back here has brought back so many memories. So much in fact that when I went to go get dinner at JoJo's Pizza I was looking for the van I had last year and not the Focus I have now.

To be honest, it's been a rough time this first week in April as I think back to last year. That tour, up to this point in time in my life, is the most fantastic thing I've ever done. With my memory it all seems right now and yet at the same time it feels like it happened a lifetime ago. It's this that, I think, makes what were good events become things that become an event that creates sadness.

Unless you have experienced that which I described in the previous paragraph I don't know if you can truly appreciate the meaning of that. Before I was diagnosed, and before I was self-aware, I remember counselor after counselor saying, "But Aaron, how can something that was happy make you sad?" I've tried my best to describe this different concept of time I think some people like myself on the autism spectrum can have, but if everything feels as if it were in the past five minutes then how can one move on? The emotions of what was then remain because time doesn't move on. This is how one year later I was looking for a silver van. This is how I still mourn the moment the trip was over.

As I think about it, looking out of my hotel window towards a very windy and dusty Phoenix, it seems anything which has a positive emotional response eventually leads to one of these eras that become frozen in time. Could this be because, normally, I am emotionally neutral. Don't get me wrong, what I mean by that is not the lack of emotions but rather that I'm usually neutral by, well, say if you gave me a scale 0-10 on happiness I will normally be a 4-6 regardless of what I am doing in terms of enjoyment. However, every once in a while, there will be an event that tips the scale and I experience joy in it's purest of forms. These moments then become frozen and it's always like it just ended and then, also, my mind feels as if joy like that will never happen again.

I might have another era frozen in time this year as I have a presentation here in Phoenix tonight, then I'm off to Tucson tomorrow and have a closed presentation and come the weekend it's round 1 of the SKUSA Pro Tour then I fly home and have a marathon of presentations in southwest Missouri. So yeah, this year is going to be special too.

Back At It

2013-04-05T12:29:00.000-05:00

It's been TOO LONG! My last race was all the way back in the middle of November but for me, today, the off season is over!

I have looked forward to this day since the final checkered flag flew in 2012. I'm beginning to realize that my position as flagman for these racing series is much more than a side job I have, and it's much more than a major Kansas of mine, as it is the place I refuel.

One thing I am not good in my life at is balance. I've actually realized this the past couple months in that I am not good at having any sort of balance in that I am always focused on one goal. When I'm in presentation mode it is the only thing that matters. Sure, I may be home, but my mind is always thinking on what to say, how to say it, and what the next thing I need to write is.

This is going to sound odd, but the time I feel the most relaxed is in the midst of a chaotic scene that is a race track. This is my balance in life.

I'm just about to head out, but moving forward this is something I think I need to look at for my life. Not in terms of flagging as I'll be doing this for a long time, but when I'm at home, or when that nasty season known as the off-season is there, I need to have more things that releases the stress of life.