Wednesday, July 31, 2013









Tuesday, July 30, 2013

A Major Change (Actually 2 Changes)







Friday, July 26, 2013

Fail Set Explained

Of all the issues those on the autism have to face one of the biggest hurdles is a fail set mindset. To put simply, fail set is thinking, "since I failed the first time I should never try again because whatever is now is forever and since I failed once I will fail forever." This has always been the way I described it but then earlier today I came up with a visual example to explain this.

To explain this I'm going to use the solitaire variant of Klondike. If you don't know the game you can click on the link, but I think most people have at least of a little understanding of the game. Anyway, I've spent many a hour in real-life or on the computer playing it (remember a long time ago when you would win on the computer version and the cards would come flying and bouncing out... those were good times!) and as the cards are dealt it is always good to have a great start, like this one which I dealt out. In this example all the aces are exposed and able to be moved up and there are two kings which can be moved to the right letting the cards underneath it be unturned and there's a 2 which can be joined with the ace. All in all this is a dream start and there's a lot of potential that this game can be won.

Now how does this have anything to do with fail set? Let's take this next example:

In this example there are no moves to begin the game and there are already two kings on the left-hand side. Where as this game does have potential  if a black queen or black 10 is unveiled a person in a fail set mindset won't even try because, after all, what's the point? Since right now there are no moves there will always be no moves therefore what is the point in proceeding?

Whether it's from parents, or teachers, this is probably the #1 thing I hear in terms of areas of concern. When trying to learn a new concept in school, whether it is learning about adverbs, or going into fractions in math, or later in life navigating the work environment, fail set is a constant issue lurking around every corner. I firmly believe that this fail set is the reason as to why the unemployment rate, per this article on states the unemployment rate is a staggering 80%! With a fail set mindset a person with Asperger's might have already relegated her or his self to unemployment just from hearing that stat because, since it's a vast majority, what's the point in trying?

Fail set can also be created within the schools. If a person is bullied throughout their school career what motivation is there to leave the house when school is over with? Within the confines of home there aren't others to bully, and since being bullied happened that means it's always going to happen therefore why try?

Another possible creation of fail set, and this happened to me, is if we get to the workplace and we have issues. I deeply struggled with the social aspect of working; I could do the actual job just fine but when it came to interacting with my coworkers I had no idea that I seemed "standoffish" or if I "fully loathed everyone else" but I did and there was friction. The end result was often employment that lasted about 6-9 months and then the friction became too great and I would just quit on the spot. This happened four times and there wasn't a fifth job until I started working at TouchPoint.

Fail set is something that can be combatted, but understanding it is the first key. Those whose minds don't operate on that system have a very hard time understanding it which is why I got super excited when I came up with the solitaire example as a visual aid in describing it. It's difficult for me to understand how one doesn't think this way, that of if failure is done once then that is always the outcome. But yes, it can be combatted in ways. One is, in school, slowly transition into new materials and before one is truly put to the test make sure the person knows it. Secondly, and I'm so thankful I've spoken to about 7,500 students, is better understanding and awareness of those around us. Look, words hurt and if a person in constantly poked and prodded about their "quirks" and maybe even physically bullied then, under the fail set, this means this will be the reality forever. It is very easy for a person to be resigned and accept a fate of failure and not trying and be part of the 80% even before they reach the age of employment. And when it comes to the workplace, understanding of those around us is important but also trying to raise the understanding of workplace politics and etiquette (this blog post is a great example of a mistake I made.)

 I have always said and firmly believe that "understanding is the foundation for hope" and I hope this post, with the visual aid, has added just a little bit of knowledge to you about the challenges of fail set and the way our minds on the autism spectrum sometimes, unfortunately, think.

Thursday, July 25, 2013

More is Less and Less is More

I've had this blog title and concept in my head for some time now but it has been so hard to put it into words so today I'm simply trying. Will it be perfect? Probably not, but the title itself is enough once I [try to] explain the concept.

If we just look at my blogs this week, one about a gas station which means so much and also my experience with the thunderstorm at 36,000 feet this shows that, in life, things have different meanings for me. In other words, what might be a major thing for you might not register for me and what might be something that has almost as much relevance as life itself for me might be inconceivable to you.

One way this plays out is what some call an, "inappropriate attachment to objects" which I have blogged several times as well as a major chapter in my book Finding Kansas entitled, "Small Things".

A great example of this would be this; in 5th grade I nominated myself to be the kickball umpire at recess and on this one day the best kicker didn't come to the parking lot to play. I knew he was in school and this was against the routine (another thing that applies to this, for most routines can be broken, for myself routines are the law of the land) so I went to go find him and when I did, by the front door, he sort of looked up and said, "Yeah, um, my dog died this morning." too which I calmly said, "Oh. Oh, well, do you want to play kickball now?" At the time there was no registering of the words he said which if I just gave you this story with nothing else you might think I was just the most cold, callous, and heartless individual in the world, but now let me give you a counterpoint to that.

It was 2001 and Emily and I were driving up to my sister's in Indianapolis to attend the Brickyard 400. On the drive we were on I-70 and we came through this town of St. Elmo, Illinois (population 1,426 per what wikipedia says) and the first thing I noticed was that the water tower had been repainted. No big deal, right? Wrong! From 1993 to 2001 I must have been in a car through that town at least 50 times and on the water tower, under the town name, it said, "1988 I.H.S.A.A. Final Four" which meant that the team from that town made that year's state's final four in basketball. In 1988 I was only five years old so you would think this would mean nothing to me but my reaction to this change was tears. Emily thought I was kidding, but I was brought to tears as I thought about all those that were on that team and that no one, from that day forward, would know what they did.

This is a very difficult concept to explain because, on one hand, there can be this cold, and seemingly immune reaction to emotion and yet a minor change in the world can evoke an emotional response that I'm sure is impossible for others around me to understand which is why I think the line of, "more is less and less is more" fits perfectly to this because some things that would seem to be an obvious emotional reaction may get none and a change in the environment say, a business that goes out of business, or a childhood toy is lost, or a street sign is changed, or a water tower being repainted may illicit major reactions.

There are many reasons, I think, that puts this system in play. One, for sure, is the "associative memory system" in that exterior items, or places, or songs, or anything really becomes connected to a time, a place, an emotion, or a person. It's this system which everything is really tied. I originally thought it was just memories, but this is the foundation for everything really and the basis for routines. When something is lost, or changed, it creates a rift throughout the entire system and it is here when "less is more" becomes apparent. If something is sudden, and stated much like "my dog died this morning" it is hard to register. That's the only way to describe it as it takes time to register and to be processed and yeah, four hours later I realized the scope of the loss, but at the moment more was less because it was unable to be processed.

I could write on and on about this and probably would just go around in circles so I will leave this at that. One thing to remember is that things that may seem too small to be noticed, or too small to have any emotional reaction may be a major episode for us on the autism spectrum and things that should have a response may not because it just isn't able to be processed and understood at that point in time.

Tuesday, July 23, 2013

Storms Over Kansas










Monday, July 22, 2013









Thursday, July 18, 2013

Another Trip From _____

Just a quick warning: In this blog I quote a couple people that sat by me on a plane. They were rude, crude, and offensive and I'm using one of their quotes in this blog. I don't feel this is what the vast majority of society feels, but I was so offended by hearing it that I had to write about it because, even though it's offensive, it's this type of mindset that we're up against.

It was two years ago I first blogged about a "Trip From _____" and that trip was when I was headed to Grand Junction for the SKUSA Summernats. Well, two years later the Summernats are once again in Grand Junction and once again I've had an awful travel experience.

First, I'm thankful there's been no 100 gate dash as there was two years ago. Also, nothing happened directly at myself as the story from two years ago. However, this has left me just as frustrated.

So this story begins on the ride from Saint Louis to Salt Lake (I've written so many blogs from this airport!) and the two people that came to my row. I was assigned the middle but they asked if I'd want to move to the aisle because they were, "going to talk a lot." I thought nothing of this and only wished they had asked if I wanted the window.

While we were in taxi mode on the runway the chatter began. At first it was about as irrelevant, well, irrelevant to me, as possible so I put in my headphones and started to listen to music. As we climbed so too do their volume. To put simply there was no tuning this duo out and what started out as mundane, idle chatter quickly became an offensive barrage to just about anything, everything, and anyone that could be offended.

I'm not going to list everything they poked fun of or complained about, but I do want to say it was amazing that, on many subjects, they would complain about both sides of a coin. The oddest thing, outside the main point of my story which I'm getting to, they complained about were, "people who donate money to children's hospitals." What? They talked as if people donating were the root of all the world's evil.

The conversation went even further downhill when they started talking about one of their daughter's classes and autism. Yes, no subject was safe from this venom-spewing duo but autism got in their crosshairs and some quotes were, "People who think autism rates are going up are just stupid because it doesn't even exist in the first place. Parents need to just look in the mirror to find the root of their problem. It's all just make believe" Offended? I know I was.

After hearing that line I muted my music and I froze. What do I do? My job title is autism ambassador and this, right then and there, is the epitome example of a time to spread awareness and understanding. Yet I felt minimized. The way these two talked I would have been simply steamrolled as closed mindedness doesn't even begin to describe them.

I thought about it for another minute and they continued bashing schools that give assistance to those on the autism spectrum and I just began to think, "how are there people like this?" and within that question I felt defeated. I realized there was nothing I could do to change their mind and if I tried it'd just become a confrontation and as angry as I was getting if I'd have said anything and they responded with something ignorant and they then got mad at my calling them out on the highest form of ignorance they were showing I'm sure the end result would have been something that would have ended up on the news for a plane being rerouted due to a verbal shouting match or something of the sort.

These two people were right around the age of 50 but I still don't understand how anyone could not only have those views but be willing to share them with an escalated voice. For a while I almost thought this was some hidden camera prank because I can't understand how anyone could be that rude." Sure, I have said things throughout my life that were the wrong thing at the wrong time, but if I ever disagree with a point I'm never going to outright yell to the world that something is, "childish" "idiotic" or, "make believe."

I don't think I was the only one to become frustrated with this two as the row in front of me kept glancing backwards at them in disgust. While this made me feel as if I weren't totally alone I still felt as if I should do something, anything, but what would be accomplished?

So here I sit now staring out at Utah and the mountains wondering about what it all meant and what I could have done differently and the thing is, I don't think I could have. As firm as they were it would have been like trying to convince a person that red is blue. And yet, I feel as if I failed even though I'm sure it was a battle that could not have been won.

Wednesday, July 17, 2013

Reflections on 25,000 and Staying Busy

As I blogged about yesterday, my career numbers of people spoken to reached 25,000. When I got home last night I thought long and hard about that and what it all meant. I became interested on what my thoughts were back when I started this in 2010 so I got out my calendar journal to look it up and I can 100% honestly say there is no way I ever would have thought I'd still be doing this three years later.

When I say calendar journal I do keep a journal but not in the traditional of ways. Each year I buy a calendar that one would put on a wall and each day I write what I did or how I felt. There are times I may go a week without filling in each box, but I've been doing it since 2004 and if you ever want a journal of any kind I would suggest my method. Anyway, though, my comment I put on my first police presentation was, "I did awful." The officers there disagreed, but I'm always harder on myself than I should be. On my 2nd presentation I put, "halfway decent" and by the tenth I put, "I think I might be halfway good."

A few months later TouchPoint hired me on full-time and I put, "but for how long?" and the entire month or March I was to a point of near paranoia that this wasn't going to last. In April the same thing and it wasn't until I went to the southwest region in June of 2010 that I put, "maybe this community education specialist job is something that is going to last!"

This morning I was still feeling compelled to reflect on the past so I made a breakdown of my presentations to geographic region and to what type of audience. As I went through my spreadsheet (I have every presentation I've done listed with noted) it was so neat to re-experience each one. Without my guide all my presentations sort of blend together. When I began this wasn't the case, but after 396 I don't think it can be helped, but to be able to look at the towns I've been in, and even realize the progression of my style (I had no humor in presenting when I began) I can't believe the journey it's been.

Speaking of journeys, I never mentioned how the rest of the USAC .25 Battle at the Brickyard went. Of course I did mention I did get clobbered in the flagstand last Wednesday and my ribs are still a bit tender, but the rest of the days, in terms of my position, went seamlessly. I think that's one of the best events I've worked as the entire staff brought our A game and at the end, after the mains on Saturday, we had victory lane where the winner of the Indy 500 celebrates. I was just spectating the ceremonies but it was so awesome to see the grins on the kids as they were given their awards in one of the most iconic places in all of motorsports.

My schedule remains busy as tomorrow morning I have a plane to ride as I head to Grand Junction, Colorado to flag the 2nd round of the SKUSA Pro Tour. As with every race I'm excited beforehand, but any time I do a SKUSA event it feels just a tad bit more special as I only do three a year with my favorite five days of the year happening at the Supernats in November.

So that's where I am at today. Next week I have a couple meetings and I have several amazing ideas I hope that I can have move forward in the near future. Whether or not they are doable is a question, but right now my brain is thinking big.

Tuesday, July 16, 2013

A Fitting Place for 25,000!








Wednesday, July 10, 2013

Why I Flag

Yesterday I wrote my blog while eating breakfast at Steak n Shake before the start of the day's activities at the Indianapolis Motor Speedway. I wrote that I would elaborate on the differences between three years ago and today, but those thoughts quickly changed just 10 minutes into practice once I got to the crash.

The moments before practice began were rather picturesque but then, for the 3rd time in 17 months, I was involved in a crash that found its way to the stand I was in. Once again it was just a fluke deal, however the impact, as with the other two, was severe and knocked me forward and I almost came out of the stand before recoiling backwards and landing awkwardly on my side. Thankfully, unlike the other two incidents, this didn't require a trip to the hospital. However, trackside medical staff did check me over, and asked a bunch of questions to check for a concussion, but I was right back up on my feet. This is Indy and I wasn't going to let a little side pain get in my way, or so I thought as about 25 minutes later my muscles under my ribcage were letting me know just how hard of a shot I took so I came off the stand and went to the office. This was one of the worst walks I have even taken because, after all, this is Indy; there are no more hallowed grounds in motorsport and I get the honor of being the flagman for this USAC .25 event but my side was hurting just a little too much for me to be able to do my job as ably as is required.

After the Advil kicked in and I had a meeting with an ice pack for about 30 minutes I was back on the stand, sore, but once I had my flags flying I felt somewhat invincible (minus the time I dropped a water bottle and bent down to pick it up.) An hour or so later a thunderstorm came through and ended the day early, but I will be back in the stand tomorrow although I am not looking forward to waking up in the morning.

So the question is, why do I do this? Why do I put myself in the line of fire to display colorful flags? The answer is more than just the fact that auto racing has been my deepest passion for my entire life. The answer is more than just the fact that I have always had a dream of flagging at Indianapolis (remember, that dream came somewhat true back in May when I started a day of practice for the Indy 500) The reason I flag is well, for one I love it, but also the fact that it has allowed me to be the person I am today.

3 years ago I worked my first USAC .25 race and it was right here in Indianapolis. I think back to the flagger, person, and presenter I was back then and I don't think there is much comparison minus my style with the flags. Except for the style I was nothing compared to who I am today. A fellow USAC worker asked me three weeks ago, "Aaron, has much has flagging with USAC helped you as a person?" and I told him something along the lines that the impact is so profound that it is hard to put into words.

That first race three years ago I was timid and would not make any decision. A big part of my job is to start the race after a caution period and I do that by displaying a rolled up green flag. Three years ago I never made one call on this and I would never ask when or rather how close we were to this occurring (i.e. the track has to be cleaned and the cars need to be in the right order.) I was highly timid and had little to no confidence. This is a great parallel to how I presented as well. I had only done about 50 presentations when I began with USAC and yes, the information I gave was great, but there was no confidence in my voice, posture, or anything by that manner.

Over the months, then the year and following year I worked more and more events and I no longer had to be coached on every movement. I began to direct the flow and inquire if the lineup was good. That may not seem like much, but I've never been good at asking questions (of that kind. I was always good at asking "what if..." questions as a child. Still am actually) but I started feeling confident in more than just my ability to make the flags not just be displayed but flow with style.

It's now been, as mentioned, three years since my first USAC race and while I had flagged, and directed many races prior, it wasn't to the amount that I've done with USAC. I'll be honest and not leave out SKUSA as working their national events has been huge for me as well, but it's within all these events that I have grown as a person. Confidence is something I have always lacked, but when I'm up on a stand and interacting with drivers, handlers, parents, and fellow staff members I feel confident.

Several people have suggested that I quit flagging as, "oh you're out of town so much" or, "oh, you're always getting hurt it seems" but who would I be without it? I am 100% confident I am the speaker I am today, and the autism ambassador I am today because of the confidence flagging gives me. To be able to do a job that requires absolute perfection, and excel at it, has been life changing for me. This is why, as the sun comes up tomorrow, I will be on my way to the Indianapolis Motor Speedway and no matter how sore my ribs may be I will be up on that stand, flags in hand, having the absolute time of my life.

Return to Indy

There are two events I look forward to working all year and today starts one of them as the USAC .25 Generation Next Tour has their largest race of the year and it takes place within the grounds of the Indianapolis Motor Speedway. 

The last time I talked about the Speedway I was the honorary starter for a day of practice in preparation for the Indy 500 and because of that today feels even more special as the stars of the future race it out on our temporary circuit. 

Today is just practice and I'm actually writing this on my phone at breakfast on the way to the track, but I'll write more on the event tomorrow and also compare where I am now compared to my first Battle at the Brickyard from three years ago. 

Tuesday, July 9, 2013

People... Nice?









Friday, July 5, 2013

A Hike To Remember

A major portion of my 2nd book will be events that took place five years ago this month. I did blog about it somewhat when I spoke of the time I hit a horse with my car. Anyway, part of the chapter is the fact that I, the day before I hit the horse, did the Sunday Gulch Trial hike at Sylvan Lake in Custer State Park.

When I did that hike five years ago I was compelled to because my dad and I did it in 1998 and I wanted to revisit history, in a way. That was my only reason to do it. Lost in the fact of that was the beauty of my surroundings which meant nothing to me. Then, I hit the horse and several days later I did the hike again and realized just how amazing the world is, and beyond that, my life.

Now it's been five years since the horse incident and I don't want to give away everything from that chapter of my 2nd book (hopefully that chapter avoids the cutting room floor) but it was on that hike that I felt like life was worth living. I had way too many close counters with things that could have ended much worse and I kept asking, "Why am I still here; why am I still alive?" but it was on that hike that I felt as if I were destined for something. Remember, at that point in time my book wasn't published, I wasn't a national flagman, and I had never given a presentation.

So yes, it's been five years and since I'm visiting my mom I wanted to go on that trail hike so two days ago we went up, we being my mom, sister, nephew and I, and Sylvan Lake was just as I remembered. In fact, it was as if 1998, 2008, and today was the same day.

At the start of my hike my sister and nephew joined me on the walk around the lake which leads to the Sunday Gulch trail head. During this time my sister snapped this photo of me which normally I despise having my photo taken but with such a perfect background I decided to bear the task of having my photo taken.

We continued on and my sister wanted to see the backside of the lake so we navigated the rocks and got back down there and eventually made it to the steep rocks. This was where my sister was going to go back and sit with my mom at the lake as was my nephew, or so we all thought. Out of nowhere my 13 year old nephew said, "Can I go?" I was expecting a hike of solitude but I wasn't going to rob my nephew of such an amazing experience and I think my sister's reaction was, "Wait, you're serious? Okay. Be safe."

It was an odd feeling; this hiking with my nephew. I was just about his age when I first did that hike so I was hoping he would have the same experience as I had when I did it. I was concerned though because he, like myself at that age, wasn't the most physically active and jumping into this hike is like jumping straight to a professional level without practice.

The best part of the hike is the first 25% which is all downhill and criss-crosses a small stream. My nephew and I talked the entire time and a wide array of topics as discussed video games past, present and future as well as NASA and the Apollo program and we wondered what it would have been like to have been Michael Collins who was the 3rd member of the Apollo 11 mission and the only member to not walk on the moon and just how lonely it would have been to have remained in the CSM.

We continued walking down and eventually we made the turn which is where the hike begins to get physically difficult as walking uphill is rather tiresome. Our conversation slowed as we concentrated more on our steps on the uneven terrain as well as not wanting to waste oxygen by speaking. However, we both at random intervals would make a statement on just how awesome this being in nature completely cut off from all electronics was (unless of course there was an emergency.)

About 90 minutes in and we were both now getting rather winded but then we turned a corner and had this most amazing of views. There are a couple other points where you can see further, and a couple other places that have amazing rock formations, but after 45 minutes of walking uphill and focusing on the ground you all of a sudden of a hunch to look up and then you're greeted with this. It was here, five years ago, that I had my revelation about life, living, and that I wanted to be more. I didn't know what that meant at the time, but I knew that I wasn't going to give up.

My experience at this point was almost the same this time. I've been feeling all sorts of emotions these past six months and have driven myself to exhaustion several times and each time I think that I wonder, "is it all worth it?" As I looked upon the Black Hills and breathed in the crisp air and looked around me I was able to go back five years ago to a person who had no direction, little hope, and a mangled car with no real means to get it repaired (thank you horse.) When we took a breather just a few steps past where I took that photo I smiled a smile thinking to myself that there would've been no way to describe to myself five years all that I am now.

In life we can so easily fall into a routine and I think I'm guilty of that as well. We get up, we do our work, we go home, we travel, we work, we eat, and lost in it all is what we're actually doing. There aren't many people out there blessed to have a job like mine and when it gets busy I can fall into that routine forgetting the fact that my words could quite possibly make a profound impact on a life. Maybe it will, maybe it won't, but I'm out there and I'm given the stage to do so. I often forget this, but as I looked out at the landscape, and then at my nephew who was having an amazing time, I realized that the potential for tomorrow is infinite so long as we make the attempt at bettering whatever it is we're doing in life.

140 minutes after we began we saw people once again who obviously weren't on a hike and we knew we were close to the end. We went up stone staircase, made a corner, and there it was, Sylvan Lake. Victory! We made good time and we walked the shore of the lake to the gift shop where my mom and sister were waiting. They were glad to see we made it back alive (they did have some doubts on our ability. I can't blame them) and that's a moment that, for me, will stay with me for a long time. Honestly, I wanted to cry. I was able to go back and relive who I was five years ago as well as the fact that I got to give my nephew the experience of the hike. I didn't think he'd enjoy it, but he did. It was an amazing time all around; so much so that we're off once again to take on the three mile trek and I'm sure that once again, my soul will be rejuvenated.

Wednesday, July 3, 2013

A Night on the Ranch






Tuesday, July 2, 2013

A Round of Golf

Okay, I realize that as much as I've talked about golf my blog name probably should be "life on the other side of the fairway" (ha! couldn't help myself, but the way I play I'm lucky to even hit the fairway with my slice) but yesterday I had a round that was more than just a round.

Yesterday my mom, sister, nephew and I drove from Rapid City, SD to Gordon, NE. Gordon is a small town (population around 1,600) but is the town my mom is from and where my grandma lived. Each summer I looked forward to our family vacation to Gordon and on one of the summers my dad took me to the country club and I played golf on a real course for the first time.

I was always fascinated by golf as a child. If I wasn't watching a race I was watching the PGA Tour but I watched for all the wrong reasons as, while some people watch racing for the crashes, I watched golf to watch people hit the ball into the water. Oh, those were good times! Anyway, my dad always took me to the driving range and I'd hit a bucket of balls with my dad saying, "When you can hit 100 yards we'll go play." Well, in 91 or 92 I had hit 100 and my uncle and cousin were going to play at the Gordon Country Club so my dad went and I got to play too!

We played alternate shot where my uncle and nephew we are on a team and my dad and I were and we would alternate shots so first shot would be my dad, then me, then him and so on and so forth. For one reason or another my dad hit the first two shots and then my first shot ever on a golf course was a shot about 15 yards off the green. I chipped the ball, it rolled on the green with what seemed like a laser guided precision and it hit the pin and went in. My uncle exclaimed, "Beginner's luck!" and I don't think anyone has ever told me something that had more truth.

Then, in 1998, my mom and I spent a couple weeks in Gordon visiting my grandma and while out there I got a super special, "student discount" and played many times. It was the first big course I played by myself and even to this day I can recall the sense in pride as I walked the course feeling one with myself, the course, and the environment. That trip was the final time I was in Gordon while my grandma was alive and I've only been through the town three times since then.

For 15 years I have wanted to play golf there. Each time I play golf I think about where I began and it's more than just the course, but the memories tied to it. It was my uncle's sheer shock of me draining the chip, it was walking to the course from my grandma's, the time my mom ran over my foot with a golf cart on hole 9, and it was the feeling of all those family vacations that are in my memories of those summer vacations. The course may not be TPC Sawgrass, or Pebble Beach, or even Wolf Creek but in all the courses in the world there was no other place I would want to play more and yesterday I got my chance.

The picture here is from the 1st tee box and as I stepped up to tee off I was, well, it was emotional. It's not very often in life we can go back to a place that is seemingly untouched by time, but standing there, 15 years later from the last time I was there, it felt like 1991, or 1998. It was hard to think of the passage of time and that I am now 30. It was hard to think of the fact that I had not walked from my grandma's on North Cornell St. To think that quite literally I was twice the age as I was there the previous time I was there made life and time seem like a blink yet at the same time it made each moment more precious.
As I played time flew. It's only a 9 hole course so playing 18 means playing each hole twice and when I had finished 18 I wanted more, so I paid for another 18. I thought that, since 15 years had passed and I'm twice the age I was the previous time what if that's the norm. That would mean I'd be 60 the next time so I wanted to savor each hole, I wanted to be there as long as possible so by the end of the day I had played each hole four times.
I'm sure I will play at more prestigious courses over my life and I'm sure I will play at courses that have more hills, water, sand, and well, people. However, each place can't live up the place that I learned how to play. This is the course my grandma drove me to one time, this is the place that my mom once waited to pick me up as the sun was setting and it was dark but I was going to finish the final hole, this was the course I first played golf with my dad, and this is the place that I fell in love with the sport for the right reasons (not watching pros goof up and hit the ball into the water.) I can only hope that it isn't 15 years until the next time I get to tee up on hole 1, enjoy the shortness of hole 2, get frustrated by the 5th hole which is an impossible par 4, or the joy of driving the green in one on 7. Until that next time I have a new round of memories to go with all the ones previously, but I can assure you there will be a next time and when that time comes all the memories of rounds, and vacations past, will come rushing back.﻿

Monday, July 1, 2013

Here's Why: A Breakdown of the 10th Tee

I wrote my Terror on the 10th Teebox blog just 80 minutes after it happened. With that said I'm not certain if I wrote in a way that wasn't clouded by emotions so for today I want to break down what happened and tell explain the "why's" of the situation because I don't know if I did a good enough job.

My anxiety began when I was told I had to golf with that threesome. Why was this bad? I had been enjoying a nice, lonesome round. To be introduced to three guys who were out to have a good time the way they knew how which was not my own was an instant alarm within me. I don't do well around loud people who are using off-color jokes. This alone would have been enough to make the round miserable.

The true thing I have trouble with around those types of people is that there is no predictability. How loud will they be? Will they be offended if I don't laugh at their jokes? Will they joke with me? Is it a joke? There are so many unknowns with people and even more so with three who are loud.

The downward spiral went faster when I first heard the conversation behind me about combining carts. Remember, the trio had told me they would let me play on so I already had my escape, but now I was going to be stuck with them. This made all those unknowns even realer.  This, I think, would be uncomfortable for anyone. Now, if that's your personality then you'd have been fine, but for a person like me this wasn't a good pairing. On top of that, this was coming at the halfway point. I have never been forced joined at the halfway point. It's different when it's at the start and I've done fine with those, but this was changing the rules of the game in the middle.

I sat there in the cart staring forward listening to every word spoken. My anxiety level was rising by the word as the man was now demanding that the guy in the cart by himself put his bag on mine. My mind was calculating all my possible options. I could've just slammed the gas on the cart and gone to play my ball. Oh, how I wish that would have been the what I had done. But instead, I sat there waiting and hoping.

There was still hope that nothing would happen; perhaps the guy would just leave us alone, perhaps the trio could convince the guy that they didn't know me and I didn't know them and it just wasn't a good fit. Then, I felt the thud of the guy's back on my cart. I turned around, in a state of panic, and exclaimed, "I... I have a form of autism and socializing isn't my thing." This is a major moment in this story as it is so difficult for me, and a lot of us on the spectrum, to express ourselves. For me to open up in public, to strangers, about this is rare. I may be a public speaker on the topic, but out in the general public I don't really express it all that often unless it should come up about what line of work I'm in.

When I express myself it usually is because it is my last resort; the final option. When I said it the first time I really had no idea what was going to happen and my brain had no ability to calculate what would happen if the guy protested. But, why would he protest? I explained what I had and that I was highly uncomfortable. The guys behind me, hearing I had autism, now wanted no part of me (which added to the drama) but the gasoline hit the fire when the guy said, "Look, I don't care. We don't have signs but a lot of places do that we reserve the right to pair you up and take your cart if need be."

I then repeated my first line out of shock, really, as I didn't know what to say or how to respond. That was the last answer I was expecting out of him. The problem now was that I was being painted into a corner and as I drove to Rapid City on Friday I was thinking about this a lot which is why I'm writing on this topic again. At that moment the man put me into a corner with no real way out. I had paid for golf, I had played with no others, I was now being thrust into the back nine with loud strangers that didn't want me and I didn't want them and despite all of our protests we were told that it didn't matter. What was I to do? I didn't want to play with them, but I wanted to continue to play. I expressed myself, but it fell of deaf ears.

I've said so many times that it takes a lot for us to express ourselves and when we do it is done with a great bit of gravity. To ignore it is to put us in a corner to which we see no exit. And, to ignore it and then mock it by giving a lecture and saying "We reserve the right and sometimes in life you've got to do things you do want to."

As I wrote in the original post I was really put into a "fight or flight" situation. And really, looking back, I was. The social anxiety to just go forward was too great and I really had no option to just turn around my golf cart so I did the logical thing, or the logical thing in my mind at that point in time as I quit and I was just going to walk my bag to my car and leave. Only if it would have been that easy.

The devastating blow came when the man then said, "What's so difficult?" It's somewhat ironic that another post last week, my Open Letter to the Ignorant was ran because I think, in that post, I wrote that the normal person has no idea how much strength it takes for me to just leave the door each day and when things do get difficult to minimize it, to ask it a condescending manner, "What's so difficult?" is to minimize everything that I am and to erase the person I try to be. It may have been three words but those three little words, at that moment, made me feel as inferior as I had ever felt.

I don't know what the normal person's reaction would have been, but I was overloaded beyond any of my ability to withstand so I collapsed in place. Logic was now gone; nothing was right. I couldn't go forward, I couldn't go backwards, and now I was being mocked.

After the fact, and even now, I very much am disgusted at my response of the situation. This is the trap that is so easy to fall into as I think to myself that man's exact words, "What's so difficult?" Why can't things just be easier? Shouldn't I just be able to be normal? Shouldn't I just be able to not allow things to affect me?"

So there I was, kneeling down with the trio getting out of there as if I were the plague, and the man who started everything vanished as well. I was alone; unwanted, misunderstood, and I was in a world of my own within a cold world. Then another worker showed up and asked if there was a problem to which I was no instantly able to respond.

In times of heightened emotions it isn't easy for me to simply answer the question and it took more seconds than what normally it would for me and I think he picked up on that as he then asked me, "Do you know what Asperger's Syndrome is?"

My brain is always calculating and I usually can predict, to a certain degree, what will be asked but his question was the last one I expected. I stuttered and then responded with a cold, factual, "I have it" to which he explained about his grandson. I don't think I did a good job explaining the importance of this in the original post and that was just how important it was to have someone that understood just what it was that I was feeling.

Think of it this way; if you had a major problem that other people saw, witnessed, and somewhat even mocked you for it what would be the #1 thing you'd want most? For me it is understanding. Without understanding I am what I fear I am and those questions I asked earlier about, "being normal" are louder. When there is understanding, well, no price tag can be put on that. It doesn't take much, but the fact that he was able to explain his grandson's intelligence but severe issues to anything remotely resembling confrontation made me feel just a tad bit more... human.

It wasn't so much that he said, "I understand" but he was able to back it up. So often people may say, "I understand" with no knowledge and nothing to back it up. That's almost like saying, "What's so difficult?" Yes, I didn't explain this well the first time, but that ranger's calmness and ability to explain and relate allowed me to breathe once more.

Moving forward in my life my passion for raising understanding once again has been multiplied by a level that is unmeasurable. The emotions I felt, the self-loathing and feeling of not mattering and being irrelevant were ones I will never forget and I know that what I went through is experienced by someone somewhere each and every day. It was one of the worst experiences of my life! One way or the other I'm going to find a way to get to more people and to raise understanding to more. I know I do a lot as is, but I don't think it is enough. I started on this journey just over four years ago and the first person I told what my new passion as I realized racing cars was not the career that I would be having I said, "The new race is to raise awareness..." and those words hold true. It truly is a race because if we can get the understanding out there just one day sooner, just one day then, well, maybe a person can avoid what I went through and if we can do that, we might just be able to win this race.