Santa Claus' Mailbox
Serling's Mailbox
some image excerpts by Jamie Wheeler, SALLY MANN, Caroline Jensen, and muyestillo
Serling's Mailbox
some image excerpts by Jamie Wheeler, SALLY MANN, Caroline Jensen, and muyestillo
modicum of self-awareness
Normal is everyone.
NEFND is actively not recruiting.
Consider yourself a nonmember of the nonexistent fellowship of the neurodiverse? Then, I have your nonmembership card. Tell me where to send it.
When you pushed the button to power the object, which you are currently looking at, you were thinking concretely. This is me—as writer—drawing attention to the fact that you—as reader—are touching tangible objects (even if you are floating in space's micro-gravity, without clothing, listening to a galactic podcast of these words, your entire body is touching the nitrogen-oxygen compound, which you are breathing in). The objects you are touching exist. Time is passing as you read. All this is your individual empirical reality.
(Even if someone ink-on-paper-ized this essay for an unfortunate someone with no electric-power)—everyone's brain gathers information from their senses. All empirical knowledge is gained from our senses. Time may pass at different speeds for different people (a scientific fact for the hypothetical person in space compared to the hypothetical person reading by candlelight) but that fact is not empirical. That fact is an abstract concept.
If you can think abstractly, when you were reading the two previous parenthetical phrases (which both began with the word even) you briefly pictured—in your mind’s eye—a naked person floating in space, breathing Nitrox, and a person on earth reading by candlelight.
If your mind’s eye did not engage—there may be another way to determine if you are capable of abstract thought.
Think about what makes up the person who is you. Consider your past thoughts and actions as well as your plans for your future self. If what you visibly 'look like' to others / in a mirror / on social media, intrudes into your thoughts, push those images into the background. Where do "you fit" into the following characteristics:
- What are some of your personal values? How important are they? List five in order of importance.
- Specifically: If you value honesty in yourself (and others) how often do you catch yourself being dishonest? Do you force yourself to tell hard truths or do you slip into easy white lies? Do you apologize when you have been untruthful or do you find excuses for continuing to be dishonest?
- Some examples of values: trustworthiness, work ethic, punctuality, empathy, spacial-awareness, quality of your listening and observing, health awareness, spend-thriftiness, forthrightness, selfishness vs selflessness, mettle.
- Think about a few pass-times or hobbies which are important to you. Do you set time aside for yourself and the mental/physical endeavors you enjoy or are you a "people pleaser" who prefers to participate in the pass-times of others? Are there any changes you might prefer to make when considering your current dynamic?
- Are you happy? Content? What is your well-being most connected to or influenced by? (e.g. wealth, education, love, creativity, career, self-awareness, geographic location)
- What is it about yourself that most pleases you?
- When / where / with whom are you most content?
- What (within your control) could you change to improve your situation?
- Future planning plays how important a role to your present self?
- How often have you accomplished previous plans you made?
- If you think planning for your future is important, but rarely accomplished previous plans, are you Ok with this conflict between desire and outcome? Is there something you could do to alter this pattern of behavior?
- What habit(s) or routine(s) do you least admire in yourself?
- Examples: procrastination, addiction, ability/inability to "say no", ability/inability to confront or accept confrontation, openness to praise and criticism, laziness, gluttony.
In my previous article on Asperger's I stated, '...NEFND only requests its nonmembers strive to possess a modicum of self-awareness...', By considering the above characteristics you have not only thought abstractly about yourself, you began the process of becoming self-aware. The next step involves focusing on details.
Everyone's characteristics (like in my analogy of a Venn-diagram) change when they are viewed as a whole—one on top of the other. Some characteristics are completely covered by others (e.g. nobody knows your flavor of sexual fetish unless you share it). Other characteristics are at-times hidden and other-times not-hidden because of timing and opportunity (the only people who know you suck at Karaoke are the other bar patrons).
Your examination of the gestalt that is you requires a willingness to determine what part(s) of your behavior(s) could be causing friction with people around you (or, within yourself). Improving your own well-being is not simple. But the first step is becoming aware that you have the power to improve you.
Final point: When a human resources employer asks you to, "Tell them a recent challenge that you have overcome," they do not want to hear another applicant explain their struggles with being a perfectionist; they are just trying to determine if you are self-aware. They want to hire people who are open to criticism, can apologize when they make a mistake, and are capable of empathizing with co-workers. Become self-aware. Then your answer to that question can be a brief explanation on how you overcame that challenge.
more values and abstract thought observations:
NEFND
In a prior article about my Asperger's traits I explain the impetus behind the design of the nefnd emblem. At the risk of redundancy, the acronym NEFND—approximately the word for named or for committee in Icelandic (Γslenska)—only requests its nonmembers strive to possess a modicum of self-awareness, humor, and a functioning conscience. There are millions of proud qualified-nonmembers; I am one.
The nonexistent fellowship of the neurodiverse (NEFND) recommends—to qualified and unqualified alike—that the engendered behaviors, resulting from the differently-wired neurons of qualified-nonmembers, be considered prima facie routinely accepted. Normal is everyone. Qualified-nonmembers should not be coerced to conform to the behaviors of unqualified-nonmembers, nor should attempts be made to fix, repair, or cure their (our) non-pathological behaviors.
At the risk of being crudely re-redundant: normal is everyone. Nefnd is actively not recruiting. If you consider yourself a nonmember, you are. Non-membership cards are a cut-paste-print away (albeit, the clear plastic 2.5 inch squares will require you to contact me - I am giving them away - I will mail you one).
more nefnd details:
fanart
my idiom du jour : off beaten path – local hidden gem
Rec Area DeForge : off river road – nearby an old dam
thine idiot (yours) : part match DeForge – haw an hem
cause now I’m tore : will it lose – now empty of 'them'
je ne sais quality-lore : with an over-full tiny lot – when
off⇡path⇣app explore : Bolton Falls – a picnic idyllic glen
distant from : Bolton VT – an' Duxbury dislikes this poem
from last October : I share – my best friend's leaf spectrum
other seasonal art-poems
Haiku ε°ι 5-7-5 δΏ³ε₯ Path
hey there below | moiaq ajayf hau
D’Abord Stalactite de Glace
Winterfall
other seasonal art-poems
Haiku ε°ι 5-7-5 δΏ³ε₯ Path
hey there below | moiaq ajayf hau
D’Abord Stalactite de Glace
Winterfall
anger avalanche (remembered and explained)
In 1983, I received orders from the US Army. I was to be stationed the entire next year in South Korea, separated from my then-wife and infant son. My wife and I decided to find an apartment for the two of them in my home town, where she could work during my year overseas. Fortuitously (I thought when I learned of it) my step-father and mother were planning an upcoming two-week vacation without my 15 year-old half-sister (because she'd be in school). I asked my mother if my immediate family could stay in their guest room during that vacation, in order to apartment hunt (I assumed they would welcome an adult and car for errands and emergencies). "No," I was told. "Your sister has been promised unsupervised-use of the house. Her boyfriend has a car."
Wow. Unexpected financial stress (paying for a motel in my hometown while four bedrooms sit empty in my family's house) combined with parental favoritism (always visible, rarely this overt) and jealousy (rarely an unsupervised hour when I was in high school...but she's permitted a fortnight) became anger. Sticky anger.
Over the next several years I didn't reply to the handful of letters sent by my mother or step-father—all I recall in the letters was their ruminations on my lack of religion and their lack of an apology. During those years I divorced my then-wife, my sons were adopted by her second husband, I married a Korean woman, and completed a few more overseas and stateside tours. Eventually (six years later, in 1989) I wrote my mother and step-father and asked to visit and introduce my second-wife to them.
Using racist verbiage, the gist of my mother's answer: 'You are welcome. She is not'.
Which caused my anger to avalanche.
Many years later (in the 1990s) after realizing my mother's bigotry only explained the last few years of our estrangement, I chuckled-to-myself over the memory of that long-forgotten sticky anger (from 1983) and pondered how those years may have been different if I hadn't stopped communicating with them.
Had I only been angry because my immediate family member(s) were never welcome in my parents home? Did I hold my anger because my mother and step-father never apologized? Would one have occurred without the other? If I'd never expressed anger and never expected apologies, would those decades have been estrangement-less?
Is the party who causes someone else to be angry always responsible for an apology? Is someone else getting angry at you sufficient reason to be angry back? If so, who should apologize first? How do insincere apologies fit-in here? Does just blurting the word 'sorry' (like a bed-wetting preschooler) ever suffice for anything more serious than accidentally stepping on someone's toes? If not (most have a keen eye for hollow apologies) how does one clearly and concisely communicate one's contrition? If one is not sorry for feeling anger at the above described decades-long series of being treated terribly by a parent, as I was, what is the fix?
Over the decades I've come to realize that, for my mother, it's always others who are unreasonable and always those same others who express unwarranted anger—while she never has reason for apologies.
Which has taught me I'm not so much my mother's son—I can, and do, say I'm sorry.
I wrote the above paragraphs of this essay in 2010. I was unaware what a covert-vulnerable narcissist was at that time. As a teenager, I knew my younger sister was a classic narcissist, but did not know covert narcissism existed nor that my mother had all the traits of a covert narcissist my entire life.
When someone asks me to explain "the benefit of knowing psychiatric labels" I tell this story. Knowing that my mother's behavior can be objectively detailed—as it fluctuated over the years between that of an un-diagnosed sociopath (glib charm, need to control, no conscience) and an un-diagnosed narcissist (no empathy, no remorse, manipulative, pathological liar)—removes my response to her behaviors from the equation. "Bad parent" explains nothing; "my mother is a narcissistic-sociopath" fills in all the blanks. It also provides insight as to why we have been on-and-off estranged for 40+ years: when I would point out her traits, she would terminate contact until enough years would pass that I would re-initiate contact and begin the cycle over. That ended when I "discovered" her mental disorder.
I can feel maudlin or morose when I see, or hear about, people enjoying the company of their extended family—it's a form of envy; a recognition of something missing in my life. But, then I focus on the decades of intentionally non-harmonious behavior which was always on theatrical display, by every one of my blood relatives, and smile in recognition that it's all behind me.
Because the answer to all the rhetorical questions I posed to myself (above, ten years ago) is that none of it was ever my fault; her fake anger and constant lies were all acts of manipulation.
Someone with no conscience and no empathy can never "miss" the bonding of extended family any more than the computer I am typing on misses me when I turn it off. My mother has never thought about any of her family members when they are not either sitting in front of her (because they came to visit her, never her-them) or on the other end of a phone (because they called her, never her-them). If she ever initiated contact, it was with hate-filled chaotic manipulation as her goal. Learning how her mind works effectively de-fanged and de-clawed the paper tiger.
To sorrow I bade good-morrow, and thought to leave her far away behind; but cheerily, cheerily, she loves me dearly...she is so constant to me, and so kind. — John Keats
The Un-Named "90 day Google Experiment"
I have no reason to suspect a correlation-causation connection between the post I happened to write 4 days ago (on 1 Feb 2020) and the fact that average page views have now returned to their pre-Nov 2019 levels.
It is certainly only coincidence that yesterday I had exactly 707 views; last month I had over 23,000 views; in the last four months they totaled about 100K, and that the unnamed "google experiment" ended at 0100 today, 5 Feb 2020. Baseline appears to have returned to zero. During the "experiment" baseline hovered around 40, which means that at any given moment 40 people on-average were viewing something on snapperhead.
From now on, I expect views may exceed the pre-Nov 2019 level of an average of 20 per day, but I suspect that can be attributed to a slight increase in interested readers/viewers who have either bookmarked or RSS subscribed. I estimate that number to be ten to fourteen people. And, I base that figure on a small-but-noticeable increase in post-specific comments during the "experiment".
Hello to you twelve viewers! Welcome back. You were in a crowd (a throng, if you will) for the last few months, but those members of the "experiment" are elsewhere now. And, they were never really here. Not like you are.
Thank you for your continued interest. If you are still reading this most-ancillary of ancillary diatribes, you might also be a member of the nonexistent asperger's-are-us fellowship. One way to know if you are a member is: did you notice that I didn't use a capital A in the nonexistent fellowship's name? Did you brain-hiccup for a microsecond? (Did it glitch again when you read the word you in the previous sentence and thought it should-maybe be your?)
Yes? Did you remember—sorry, of course you did; you remember everything (both a blessing and a curse)—that you can receive your nonexistent fellowship membership card if you let me know via email or comment or em-tele-pathic focus? I haven't actually designed it yet. And, yes, that did you remember bit was faux authorial-courtesy. Wrap your grey-matter around that. But the nonexistent fellowship card could exist outside of my imagination if there were a demand (for it to exist).
If you did not have a brain-hiccup, nor a glitch, weeell. See. Asperger's is named after a person. People's names are nouns, which are normally capitalized (in English)*. I also appreciate your views as well. I was being facetious when I mentioned e-t-p focus. That is not a real thing. I made it up.
While some of us do share a heightened, empath-level, ability to "read" people (because some of us are inordinately hyper attuned to details, and you-we-everyone constantly communicates non-verbally much more clearly than with your-our vocal chords) we do not have a supernatural ability to transmit our thoughts to others with the traits that have been labeled Asperger's. Of course we do not.
We are all nonmembers of the NonExistent Fellowship of the Neuro-Diverse (NEFND) ** and we are actively not recruiting.
The portion of traits I possess—that Mr Hans Asperger, grouped into a small umbrella-term autistic psychopathy (in his 1944 paper about social-isolation; which came from an idea he stole from a woman)—are, today, known by the eponym Asperger's, and are only a small faction of traits encapsulated by the nonexistent fellowship of the neuro-diverse (name, logo, and acronym contrived/devised in this paper; which contains the massive umbrella-term: neurodiverse, I appropriated
● Hyper-sensitive olfactory system. Smells influence my emotions. Good smells are amazing for short periods of time. Some of my favorites are Lilac, Lemon Myrtle, Cinnamon, Creosote, Honeysuckle, Petrichor, and Wintergreen. Bad smells can be stiflingly or jarringly uncomfortable for even the briefest moments. My worsts are Alcohol-based-powdered-Rose-Petal (some cheap perfumes and talc body-powders); nicotine and alcoholic-drink-based-sweat; and any strong body/breath odors caused by bacteria. When I notice the odors, if I can not move a sufficient distance away, I feel my anger rising. Other feelings caused by bad odors: headache, melancholy, lack of appetite, inability to focus.
● Hyper-focused on visual details. When looking at something new, my eye is drawn to minute flaws (easily overlooked by most people). Over time, I can become accustomed to these minor irregularities and eventually I can either stop noticing them, or at least stop being bothered by them. This makes me very task-oriented. Once engaged, I can get lost in the creation or the work.
● Intentional lack of eye contact. Related to my visual-detail hyper-focus, I lose my train-of-thought when/if I stare at a person's face. I can look people in the eye when they are talking, or if all that is required of me is to answer brief, simple questions, but if I am engaged in an interesting conversation with someone, I have to turn my eyes to a blank space when I formulate my words. If I look at a person's face, my mind begins to constantly interpret every muscle movement, glance, expression, and tick—an apt analogy: I find it difficult to think about what to say next when you are shouting at me with your body language.
● Urge to collect. I learned to control my desire to compile items, which provide a pleasurable visual stimulation, very early in my life. I decided that I would only collect items which fell within a very small set of parameters (size, material, cost, and quality) and then reinforced and updated those parameters as I matured (and my aesthetics changed). I, currently, have four collections: spheres, knick-knac objet d'art, small green stained glass, and Buff-style hats.
● Disdain small talk. When I read about the Asperger's category normally labelled: Possesses low social skills, lack of empathy, inability to read the emotions of others, all I can see is that it was written by an extrovert who believes their way of life is how everyone should live, that they think it's vastly important to be the life of the party and to have hundreds of Facebook friends. I can read the emotions of others (even while they are staring at their phone) although at least half of people with Asperger's can not. I would not use the term lack of empathy in this context—I simply say: I do not enjoy associating with shallow, unintelligent, vapid people. I am not on Facebook, nor on Twitter. I hold you in disdain is not the same as I lack empathy for you.
● Verbose. I attempt to curtail my rants. I try to edit and shorten my stories. I am not always successful. I enjoy "burying the lead." It seems anti-climactic to tell my BFR story with the intro "how would you like to hear about how an octogenarian got my HMMWV out of a ditch in Korea?" or to start my Clatsop State Forest camping tale with, "Have you heard my mountain lion story?" I enjoy painting a verbal canvas. I am verbose.
● Above-average intelligence. I don't include this one when asked to list the traits face-to-face. It seems weird that I don't mind being pretentiously disdainful of ignorance, but when pointing out that I'm smarter than most, I shirk away from what feels like braggadocio.
Normal is everyone and that encompasses a wide range of neurodiverse people . . .
Some neurodiverse (qualified-nonmembers of nefnd) have Asperger's traits and can be hyper-sensitive to light, touch, tastes or sounds (or a combination of some or all). Because these qualified-nonmembers recognized a need to explain their hypersensitivities to the unqualified (as they grew up) they may claim:
- Sunglasses at night are "because bright lights cause migraines".
- Don't eat certain foods because "they are allergic" (I enjoy telling people I am a super-taster to explain my avoidance of specific foods).
- They "dislike crowds" or "are afraid of germs" (instead of saying that casual touching, shaking hands, or being bumped by fellow-concertgoers makes them extremely uncomfortable).
- They "hate that music" (instead of saying anything at that volume makes them nauseous).
Some have balance issues, awkward gaits, or vocal atonality. Most of which can be explained by a lack of self-awareness, combined with an early childhood learned-trait to never compare ones own behaviors to that of anyone else (because most unqualified preschoolers are hobgoblins), and a decrease in concern for what all other people think (because they tease you when you tell them what you think).
Some share Asperger's traits (comorbidity) with "neurological disorders" [I use quotes because yesterday's or today's pathological disorders have been, are, or will be, considered normal (e.g.: depression, anxiety, OCD, ADD, dyslexia)].
Many with Asperger's are too far along the spectrum to self-analize, quantify, recognize, and/or take steps to ameliorate the more debilitating traits they possess—because of an incapacity to recognize decreased quality-of-life behaviors (e.g. extreme collectors eventually become "hoarders" and the overly verbose, incapable of differentiating/filtering their thoughts and internal dialogue from conversational topics, become "ramblers").
* Did you read my first use of the prepositional phrase in English and instantaneously wonder what languages, if any, don't capitalize what is referred to as proper nouns in English? And, when I did not expound with a list of languages, here, are you - now - going to look it up? I have a free clear-plastic nonmembership card for you.
** The Icelandic word for named or for committee is (approximately) nefnd. Of course I would know! Doesn't everyone extensively research their prospective brand name, acronym, and logo? An acronym which means Named in some other language (or even Committee, which is a visual treat to my brain—three double letters) oh the irony.
Why Redux
I rarely look at my blog's statistics. My reason for writing these pages is more about the act of creating than who my audience might be. I occasionally enjoy looking back at my thoughts from yestermonth; and in a decade or three I'll have a massive record of who I was. (Hey...stranger things have happened! Just because my male ancestors on both sides all died before reaching social-security-age...doesn't mean the grim reaper has already penciled-in my reservation. *he says, mentally knocking on wood*) If I do survive until then, I intend to re-read and peruse this s n a p p e r h e a d to combat or stimulate my senility.
Today, I learned from my blog's statistics that the post I wrote on 20 November 2009, Life-Mission: Possible, has been read (or at least visited)
I can understand why some of my other posts have been (and will continue to be) so-often visited; they contain adult oriented, often searched, keywords.
When a page contains more than a couple anatomically explicit words, which your average cock in hand mouth-breather thinks are somehow connotative of sex, it might blow your mind the bucket load of ass-hats who flock to that page. You get the idea...I don't need to include words like cum, cunt, or fuck to pull in page views...hell...this post (now that it contains all these naughty bits) may surpass 512 visits in less than a month. The icing on the cake (albeit the word fetish would help it become a shoe in) to guarantee that it becomes the post-with-the-most is a lurid image (or threesome). Not even a good or explicit pornographic picture, just a light to attract the porn moth's attention. Maybe just a black and white snapshot which looks like something it isn't.
I THINK YOU KNOW WHY
I wrote everything above this point in the summer of 2011. Three months ago, my views jumped from a daily average of 20 to a daily average of 700; the only change—on my part—was an increase in creativity. Although my art, poems, and personal perspective essays related to philosophy had increased slightly, I do not think that is the reason for a exponentially-large increase in views. I suspect google made some change in a counting-algorithm and now they count every image as "viewed" if someone scrolls past it in an image search, rather than requiring them to click on it.
At this point (early 2020) I get more views of my art and poems (and those containing elements, fragments, and composites containing the nude female form get more views than my stories and personal perspectives).
For those who still assume this B&W image is what it is not...the crease is actually between two people. You can just-barely see the bottom person's neck and their right shoulder and the top person has the bottom person in a head-lock (that's the top person's left shoulder).
Here is a statistical snapshot of cumulative views - 1 Feb 2020:
This original post (2011) - Why?: 80Life-Mission: Possible (2009): 1,942Kirby Archer: an Infamous Friend (2007): 4,298pareidolia-apophneia (art - 2009): 38
greypopcorn (art - 2008): 21
straits of ujod (art - 2019): 2,217tang.abstract.houghts (art - Nov 2019): 1,709Santa Claus' Mailbox (art - Dec 2019): 1,881KEEP CLEAR (ent. rhetoric - Nov 2019): 2,080GRAB BAG REDUX (story - Nov 2019): 2,493GRAB BAG (original story - 2011): 57
S P O T H E R E H T O P S
s n a p p e r h e a d – obvious acronym – eight categories found above
palindrome – title of this art work – contain hidden glories, which I love
objet d’art – an intriguing puzzle – tell abstract stories: certain enough
top spot here – damnable extra aych – letter inventories aren’t a glove
haiku poem – syllables three six nine – word labratories trim and shove
earth yarnball – kaleidoscope hash-tag – helpfull interrogatories void of
rotator – also a palindrome – htops dummy-letter aych squanders pace
entertain – myself as I create – an’ some chummy readers of this place
hold focus – concentrate on feelings – the gummy lexicon eyes to trace
there her tops – visage uncongeal – bluetummynipplethighs&greenface
ornate sphere – irony intended – blank crummy metaphor: human race
pointedly – message dichotomy – slummy-yummy in squire-cyberspace
staid playful – create civility – use your thrumming mind in face-to-face
additional art-poem combo meals:
Re-collecting Memories ❹ the fourth dozen
← the first dozen
← the second dozen
1996 37 Fort Drum, NY - CW2 - first home purchase - two acres, two outbuildings, two-car garage, no landlord, no neighbor noise - discover pleasures and pitfalls of home ownership. Self-sufficient. Knowledgeable. Finally all grown up. Now I'm fully qualified for my "adulting credentials".
Fort Drum, NY - CW2 - sister sues our deceased step-father's estate - half sister is executrix - despicable greed dominates my entire immediate family - rift(s) in family relationships are irrevocably widened - attempt to distance myself. Adrift. Confused. Disdainful. Unaware (eventually, I become aware).
1997 38 Fort Drum, NY - CW2 - observe the northern lights - green or red-tinged green aurora borealis a half-dozen times (distant glow as well as slowly undulating close-up ribbons). Amazed. Serene. Entranced. Lucky.
Stuttgart, Germany - CW2 - temp SAC - conduct preliminary investigation on a recent allegation of a 50-year-old US war-crime (from WWII) - informed US soldiers shot and murdered German POWs (interview two eyewitnesses and a survivor). Disillusioned. Ashamed of previous service members. Embarrassed by my own naΓ―vetΓ©.
1998 39 Fort Drum, NY - CW2 - witness a massive meteor storm - cold and mostly cloudy night (about 1am EST) - meteor showers, normally measured in meteors per minute or hour — I witnessed hundreds per second for about 20 minutes (until clouds blocked the sky) - the event was so unknown/unusual I didn't know what I was seeing - call everyone to ask what they see - no mention in local or national news the next day - still no mention of a massive meteor storm in 1998 on the internet - Awestruck. Overwhelmed. Dumbfounded. Wonder if this was an unexpected, once-in-a-hundred-lifetimes-event, hidden from most people who could have seen it by 99% cloud cover.
Fort Drum, NY - CW2 - struggle shiver-slog thru devastating state-wide ice storm - most of northern NY state without electricity for a week (my house for eleven days) - millions of trees broken, thousands of power-lines down, hundreds of blocked roads, damaged windows, burst pipes (wood stove = lifesaver). Stressed. Challenged. Extremely uncomfortable. (Albeit, there was a certain beauty in everything covered in thick ice).
1999 40 Wiesbaden, Germany - CW2 - obtain PADI certification during two-week Jamaica vacation - scuba dive with sting rays - moray eel - catch crabs in make-shift net. Skill-thrilled. Excited. Proud to become a member of an exclusive explorer club.
Wiesbaden, Germany - CW2 - learn I possess 50% of Asperger's Syndrome traits - knowledge of the label is initially very discomfiting - I tell no one. Different. Odd. No longer "just" an uber-introvert. (In 2015 Asperger's is re-labeled part of ASD, but I've gotten comfortable wearing the label for over a decade, so informing others to explain lack of eye contact, hyper-attention to detail, and my disdain for small-talk, just makes things easier.)
2000 41 Wiesbaden, Germany - CW3 - scuba dive vacation - Red Sea, Egypt - sharks, turtle, eel, giant purple-blueish clam, thousands of jelly fish, night-dive, wreck-dive, drift-dive, deep-dive - also visit Caro, Valley of the Kings. Pleased. Excited. Lucky.
Wiesbaden, Germany - CW3 - excruciatingly painful ear infection - no doctors provide sufficient medicine to help (neither local emergency room nor military clinic) - four days of hell - can't get out of bed - infection returns in a month - then one medic (exception proving the rule) gives me a Z-pack - cures it in a day - reconfirm my distrust of doctors. Fear return infection. Angry.
2001 42 Kosovo - CW3 - 30 day vacation in Australia - tree house in rain-forest - outback hike - deep-sea fishing - snorkeling lizard island - scuba live-aboard Coral Sea and GBR - Sydney - Cairns - bat cave - wildfires - cane frogs - fruit bat - deadly plants - feed tree possums! Mind-expanding. Wonderfully entertained. Perfect retirement present to myself. Over-inundated by unique beauty, new information, and first-time experiences.
Kaiserslautern, Germany - CW3 - every aspect of my life for the last six months of my career = worst of entire career: housing (3rd floor stairwell apt) neighbors (rude-noisy) job (paper-pusher) commute (90-minute autobahn one-way) supervisor (dull clock-watcher) office (tightly shared with 3 coworkers) home (tightly shared with unemployed/unhappy wife, divorced step-daughter, and her child) stress (all of the above and 9/11, Afghanistan, Iraq, retirement postponement "stop-loss" possible / retirement planning / vacation planning) creativity (nonexistent). Light at the end of the tunnel kept me sane. Teetering on brink of mental exhaustion. Surrounded by careless-people and people who don't care (there is a difference). Lonely. On edge. Frayed.
2002 43 Prescott, AZ - Retired - nomadic for 6 months - remote camping - camp sites - motels - friends / family - purchase a 5th wheel trailer - explore the sunny SW states of TX, CO, NM, UT, AZ, NV - hike with my cat, Gus. Relaxed. Unfettered. Perfectly retired. Mentally rested. Creativity returning slowly.
Prescott, AZ - Retired - waking-blackout for two hours - consume too much of the wrong-stuff at the worst concert of my life. Sheepish. Foolish. Garrulously stupid.
2003 44 Prescott, AZ - separate and file for divorce - discover (like a color-blind person being handed a pair of enchroma glasses) that I'd become mostly unaware of the extent and depth of my own unhappyness - no longer emphatically absorbing the ever-fluctuating moods of an never-contented spouse. Ecstatic. Never a moment of regret or disappointment.
Phoenix, AZ - new relationship - great company - good communication - move to where she works - willing to keep myself occupied until she's ready to move away from the hot-terrible city. Happy. Cautious (new-relationship training-wheels). Pleased with our joint-luck of finding each other. Wonderfully compatible.
2004 45 Phoenix, AZ - start s n a p p e r h e a d - creative outlet without demands (except those set by myself) - learn HTML - begin digital composite found-art (garage is 120 degrees = too hot to paint). Comfortable. Satisfied. Fully engaged with my imagination. Creative engine revving back to high-speed. Fantastic state of mind.
Phoenix, AZ - flip a car at 60mph during the worse hail storm ever experienced - only actual car accident in my life - one minute everything is fine and the next, I'm upside down in a ditch - unconscious for a couple seconds. Physically injured. Mentally in shock. Emotionally thankful we were not more injured. Traumatized.
2005 46 Phoenix, AZ - week in San Francisco - two weeks in Mexico - constantly creating, learning, exploring, reading and spending whatever time possible with a fantastic bestfriend-girlfriend. Where has this feeling been all my life - shared love between two simpatico close-confidants is unequalled. Amazed.
Phoenix, AZ - Pam undergoes major surgery - multiple teenager problems with law enforcement causes her stress - significant discord with her mother - upheaval at her job. My emotions are (by empathic connection) buzzing. Want to help; helpless when I can't. Confused.
2006 47 Payson, AZ - month of traveling - perfect night (cabin, hot tub, light-bulb chicken, home-made-salad, visiting house cat, canoe on a moonlit lake, stone fireplace) - Saranac Lake, NY. Sated. Calm. Giddy with the perfection of it all.
Payson, AZ - 5th wheel trailer living - cats stressed by too much proximity - her kids uprooted and unhappy with their fathers - her job search's unfruitful - future financial insecurity = stress. Slightly un-creative. Un-moored. Disgruntled. Unable to focus. Supportive.
2007 48 Payson, AZ - sirius radio "chill station" becomes new favorite - in car - in home - outside drawing with antenna headphones - Pam's new travel-work permits me to accompany occasionally. Chilled out. Pleased. Contented.
Payson, AZ - mega-drunk at a party - suspect something more than alcohol was in my glass - emotions racing - unreasonable anger for no reason - terrible things said - unconscionably long and bleary drive afterward - Stupid lucky. Aware every mile I drove that I was never more-eligible for a DUI (or a hearse) in my life. Angry at myself for being aware that I was behaving so reckless as I was driving as well as after. My rare "that's not who I am" event; a self-embarrassing event I don't like to recall. This is my answer when asked, in a party-game, for a "worst regret" — I'd return in a time-machine and tell myself not to drink at this party (especially not from the open jagermeister in the freezer).
the fifth dozen (coming soon?)
Fort Drum, NY - CW2 - sister sues our deceased step-father's estate - half sister is executrix - despicable greed dominates my entire immediate family - rift(s) in family relationships are irrevocably widened - attempt to distance myself. Adrift. Confused. Disdainful. Unaware (eventually, I become aware).
Stuttgart, Germany - CW2 - temp SAC - conduct preliminary investigation on a recent allegation of a 50-year-old US war-crime (from WWII) - informed US soldiers shot and murdered German POWs (interview two eyewitnesses and a survivor). Disillusioned. Ashamed of previous service members. Embarrassed by my own naΓ―vetΓ©.
Fort Drum, NY - CW2 - struggle shiver-slog thru devastating state-wide ice storm - most of northern NY state without electricity for a week (my house for eleven days) - millions of trees broken, thousands of power-lines down, hundreds of blocked roads, damaged windows, burst pipes (wood stove = lifesaver). Stressed. Challenged. Extremely uncomfortable. (Albeit, there was a certain beauty in everything covered in thick ice).
Wiesbaden, Germany - CW2 - learn I possess 50% of Asperger's Syndrome traits - knowledge of the label is initially very discomfiting - I tell no one. Different. Odd. No longer "just" an uber-introvert. (In 2015 Asperger's is re-labeled part of ASD, but I've gotten comfortable wearing the label for over a decade, so informing others to explain lack of eye contact, hyper-attention to detail, and my disdain for small-talk, just makes things easier.)
Wiesbaden, Germany - CW3 - excruciatingly painful ear infection - no doctors provide sufficient medicine to help (neither local emergency room nor military clinic) - four days of hell - can't get out of bed - infection returns in a month - then one medic (exception proving the rule) gives me a Z-pack - cures it in a day - reconfirm my distrust of doctors. Fear return infection. Angry.
Kaiserslautern, Germany - CW3 - every aspect of my life for the last six months of my career = worst of entire career: housing (3rd floor stairwell apt) neighbors (rude-noisy) job (paper-pusher) commute (90-minute autobahn one-way) supervisor (dull clock-watcher) office (tightly shared with 3 coworkers) home (tightly shared with unemployed/unhappy wife, divorced step-daughter, and her child) stress (all of the above and 9/11, Afghanistan, Iraq, retirement postponement "stop-loss" possible / retirement planning / vacation planning) creativity (nonexistent). Light at the end of the tunnel kept me sane. Teetering on brink of mental exhaustion. Surrounded by careless-people and people who don't care (there is a difference). Lonely. On edge. Frayed.
Prescott, AZ - Retired - waking-blackout for two hours - consume too much of the wrong-stuff at the worst concert of my life. Sheepish. Foolish. Garrulously stupid.
Phoenix, AZ - new relationship - great company - good communication - move to where she works - willing to keep myself occupied until she's ready to move away from the hot-terrible city. Happy. Cautious (new-relationship training-wheels). Pleased with our joint-luck of finding each other. Wonderfully compatible.
Phoenix, AZ - flip a car at 60mph during the worse hail storm ever experienced - only actual car accident in my life - one minute everything is fine and the next, I'm upside down in a ditch - unconscious for a couple seconds. Physically injured. Mentally in shock. Emotionally thankful we were not more injured. Traumatized.
Phoenix, AZ - Pam undergoes major surgery - multiple teenager problems with law enforcement causes her stress - significant discord with her mother - upheaval at her job. My emotions are (by empathic connection) buzzing. Want to help; helpless when I can't. Confused.
Payson, AZ - 5th wheel trailer living - cats stressed by too much proximity - her kids uprooted and unhappy with their fathers - her job search's unfruitful - future financial insecurity = stress. Slightly un-creative. Un-moored. Disgruntled. Unable to focus. Supportive.
Payson, AZ - mega-drunk at a party - suspect something more than alcohol was in my glass - emotions racing - unreasonable anger for no reason - terrible things said - unconscionably long and bleary drive afterward - Stupid lucky. Aware every mile I drove that I was never more-eligible for a DUI (or a hearse) in my life. Angry at myself for being aware that I was behaving so reckless as I was driving as well as after. My rare "that's not who I am" event; a self-embarrassing event I don't like to recall. This is my answer when asked, in a party-game, for a "worst regret" — I'd return in a time-machine and tell myself not to drink at this party (especially not from the open jagermeister in the freezer).
the fifth dozen (coming soon?)
waod poem
rarely are there anymore breathtaking dΓ©nouements in this place outside of
yet as I crafted an important series of sentences for my son I stumbled on
bliss by a billion tiny kisses (the antithesis of death’s trillion tiny cuts)
barely realized unless our split-brained attention is riven; focus forced into
novel-for-you non-momentous events; happening right now, or isn’t this a first for
encouragement and compliance of contemplation of this composition? Today it’s
s n a p p e r h e a d ’s totem pole capstone, which was begun in forty-three’s day
tomorrow waod poem’s intricate reflection collage silhouettes will be unburied
while conducting future memory mining exercises during AOC’s presidency
which requires every one of us to live thru overwhelming/underwhelming
events during The Buffoon’s impeachment and then place their recall
codes in squire where they may get dusty but never so unused as to
draw attention to bending the ground rules while recognizing they exist
for the sole purpose of being broken – morality may be completely inside of
creative words generated by millions of imaginations but would this artwork if
less delicately prurient or without its attention catch-hold – I suggest it would not
be valued any less by me, its creator, who considers every view, by you, a tiny kiss
yet as I crafted an important series of sentences for my son I stumbled on
bliss by a billion tiny kisses (the antithesis of death’s trillion tiny cuts)
barely realized unless our split-brained attention is riven; focus forced into
novel-for-you non-momentous events; happening right now, or isn’t this a first for
encouragement and compliance of contemplation of this composition? Today it’s
s n a p p e r h e a d ’s totem pole capstone, which was begun in forty-three’s day
tomorrow waod poem’s intricate reflection collage silhouettes will be unburied
while conducting future memory mining exercises during AOC’s presidency
which requires every one of us to live thru overwhelming/underwhelming
events during The Buffoon’s impeachment and then place their recall
codes in squire where they may get dusty but never so unused as to
draw attention to bending the ground rules while recognizing they exist
for the sole purpose of being broken – morality may be completely inside of
creative words generated by millions of imaginations but would this artwork if
less delicately prurient or without its attention catch-hold – I suggest it would not
be valued any less by me, its creator, who considers every view, by you, a tiny kiss
Details on the creation of this artwork and poem can be read about at: Art Transliteration.
other art-poem combo deals:
imagine a suggestively-confusing title here
Interested in how this was created (this, my personal worst artwork to date)? An explanation can be read at Art Transliteration.
more suggestive art:
Can You Canoe?*
Two people in a canoe (stop me I you’ve heard this one) paddling upstream…
Even if you grew up on a lake, you may be unfamiliar with some of the finer points of canoeing, so I’m going to explain some things you may already know, but—this is my analogy, so move your eyes along—these specific points are important to the getting-to-my-point part of the gisty-overall-nut.
The person in the back of the canoe (I’ll defer from going too far, but realize I do know my aft from a port in the ground) steers as well as paddles. The person in the front paddles and navigates. (Because the front has the best view of submerged dangers.)
Also, the person in the back—the driver—can easily see on which side the person in the front is paddling; important for steering, because when both paddle on the same side the canoe turns in that direction, and when each paddle with the same strength on opposite sides: it travels relatively straight.
A J-stroke (turning the blade of the paddle away from the canoe at the end of the stroke) can correct the slight turn of the canoe caused by the initial power of the stroke.
Feathering the paddle (at the end of each stroke, turning the wrist so the blade is parallel with the water surface) insures less air resistance as the paddle is brought forward and, more importantly, if the paddle accidentally strikes the water, it smoothly slices through and doesn’t alter the canoe's course of travel.
The front person—the navigator—can’t see how the driver is paddling or feathering. The navigator also can’t see if the driver is using a proper J-stroke, or even if the driver is no longer paddling but is using the paddle as a rudder. The driver, on the other hand, can always tell when the navigator is not feathering, using a J-stroke, or paying attention for submerged objects.
An easy canoe trip is spent drifting downstream. This permits both people to do very little hard work. The driver can steer without much effort. The navigator doesn't have to constantly paddle and can just look out for underwater obstacles. A marriage or committed-relationship (eventually I get to it) of downstream drifting consists of:
- A downstream-navigator, watching the scenery float by, enjoying the knowledge that the driver will steer the canoe without much besides an occasional word of direction.
- A downstream-driver, steering haphazardly, paddling only when absolutely necessary, and rarely asking his navigator for guidance.
Upstream or downstream, it’s always easy at first. No one’s tired. It’s a new experience! New-navigators don’t get distracted by the passing scenery (too much) and routinely call back, amid strong strokes, “we need to go left here” and “I think we need to stay waaay right of that rock”. At the same time, new-drivers—with strength and proficiency—constantly feather, and, when their new-navigators paddle on the right, they switch to the left; when their new-navigators get tired and switch back, the attentive new-driver is ready to switch too.
After a while, depending on the canoe, the couple, their individual stretch of river, and whether they are struggling upstream or coasting downstream, each person can get physically tired or mentally bored. It’s a long upstream or downstream haul. It never stops flowing.
When the navigator gets tired and stops paddling: A wise driver knows how to paddle and steer alone, asking if the navigator is OK; an incompetent driver criticizes and complains about doing all the work and at times may even go so far as to gripe, “watching for hidden logs is the simple and easy job”.
When the driver gets tired and stops paddling or just steers: A conscientious navigator knows it’s time to kick in some extra effort and J-stroke for two; a selfish navigator looks back and complains about doing all the work.
When the canoe hits an underwater log: An experienced driver knows the sun on the water can blind even the most attentive navigator and begins back paddling; a foolish driver places blame and hollers directions. This incident can be further aggravated—with an un-trusting couple—if the log was hit when the navigator was looking back at the driver to criticize about a lack of effort. It then becomes a, “see-what-you-did, not-my-fault-you-weren’t-paddling,” back and forth.
When paddling a marriage upstream: Both the driver and the navigator must work together. Both must communicate: “I need a break, can you paddle alone for a while?” By that, I mean:
- If you are presently the navigator and know your driver will see when you stop paddling, so think it's redundant to mention it, you're wrong: tell your driver anyway.
- If you are currently the driver and suspect your navigator won't know if you just take a quick rest, you're wrong: tell your navigator first.
To help ensure your canoe-partner doesn’t notice your canoe trip is no longer what they envisioned at the beginning (when fresh, dry, and still on the bank of the river) a few canoe-rules:
- Never take your canoe-partner for granted or treat them disrespectfully. Many canoers have the (vastly mistaken) impression that they'll be sharing their canoe with their partner—and will always remain in the same seat position—for their entire life! (All that, ’til death do us part, shite.) It shouldn’t be, but it is, an absolute shock to many canoers when they discover their partner wants to stop their canoe trip.
- Never act like you have attained a tenured position. The length of time spent in the canoe seems to have a bearing on the ease (or lack thereof) of getting out of it. The more time both canoers invest in paddling the less willing they become, to get out. This can be the impetus for a ridiculous belief (in one or both) that the invested time itself, somehow guarantees the canoe trip's longevity. As one mistaken idea becomes a boatload—a careless canoer then treats their partner with disdain and acts selfishly, without regard for their responsibilities as driver or navigator.
I’ve successfully paddled canoes with a handful of significant others (usually as the driver, but I've navigated as well). I steered or navigated those canoes to shore when the trips were over (at times reluctantly, usually enthusiastically). Occasionally I got my feet a little damp. If I had to jump in to get the canoe on the bank, I got my legs soaking wet. I say this because, I’ve done it enough to know the water is not so cold that one can’t take it for a short period.
I’m no longer looking for someone to help me paddle a canoe. I currently share a rowboat with the perfect person to share it with.
* posted 2005; update/re-post 2020
more on relationship navigation:
Haiku ε°ι 5-7-5 δΏ³ε₯ Path
First snow-hike boot tracks
Pads carefully placed, 'til he
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