Most Inland Port of the US

A long time ago I was gifted 1% of a port. A real port, albeit a minor one – the owner had done wrong by me commercially and the recompense was more than fair, 6 figures.

We were still ongoing partners in other ventures. He look me out to the port – in America – to brag about its potential. I also bragged; being an efficiency genius, I wagered that I could improve their operations, merely by casting my eye over it.

It bugs me today, decades later, the exact words I said, and how wrong I was.

I was not good at efficiency, I was OCD obsessed with efficiency. Two very different things.

In Cambodia this week I am obsessed with being efficient around doing the best solution to:

  • ATMs mostly serve $100 bills in USD
  • ATMs all charge $5 per withdrawal
  • Shops/restaurants mostly can’t accept a large bill
  • Small change is returned in the different, local currency, so you carry both
  • Exchange rate is 4150 to 1
  • Many places only accept cash
  • Neither currency has any use back home (for me in Australia)
  • Tuk tuk drivers are vague on price
  • The lowest note is worth 3 cents and I left them on the bedside table

Upshot: I spent literal hours of torment over a few dollars difference. $20 tips on a trip costing $1000+ (local money), instead of the holiday aim being to relax. Instead of enjoying a walk along the river, I am consumed by the craziness of their system, a system that isn’t my normality.

I confuse being efficient with being obsessed with it so much I am anything but.

But my oddness led me to being a part owner of the most inland water port of the USA.

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I Don’t Get The Munchies

I don’t get stoned much these days, but I have been plenty enough to know how I respond to it, and one thing I have never understood is that compulsory Hollywood association with getting the “munchies”. No actually feeling hungry, but more wanting very much to eat something pleasing, like pizza.

Something I know well about autism is that I have developed coping mechanisms over the years. And one that began very early and sub-consciously is reducing inputs to a manageable level, like wearing sunglasses to reduce the glare.

For example in dangerous or violent situations I tend to be a cool observer, detached from the reality. The alternative is to actively care which would be overwhelming (for me).

So, my theory regarding the munchies is that it is there, just somewhat muted, as part of the general muting of all feelings and sensations.

If my stoned friends take me to a restaurant, I do become more enthusiastic about eating and I enjoy it more – so there are aspects of munchies noticeable.

Also, I don’t tend to be a fanatic of anything. That might be related

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Special Sauce

A “special sauce” to me is not a fun exploration, but rather a risk not worth taking.

When you reverse engineer it…

My biggest fear is being seen as different
Therefore I plan everything to the millimetre
Unknowns or changes destroy me
Any deviation from the plan is disastrous*

Ordering food is stressful and problematic.

If the menu is very clear about the components of the food – and all are agreeable = heaven.

If I need to change something, my stress goes through the roof. It’s not cool being the “fussy” person who needs to change things. But worse still, they often get it wrong. Often.

The number of times I have received a burger with mayo in it, and I have just walked out…

Burgers are better with sauce, I don’t doubt. When in the pics it looks white, I know it is mayo-based, and mayo is my kryptonite.

I love the concept of chicken burgers, but – for me – they don’t go with any sauces I like (tomato or BBQ). At home they are fine sauceless, but at fast food places, they are way too dry and need sauce.

Asking what that the sauce options are, and trusting their description, and trusting that my preferences will be adhered to… I end up saying “no sauce of any kind, please”, and I get a lesser food experience because the sauce makes the meal.

Special Sauce could be anything. While the proprietor might think it is the bees knees, to me it is an unknown and scary proposition.

While we are on the topic. I always ask for the meal to no include salad. I don’t mind salad, but getting it without dressing is t0o arduous. I get plenty of healthy food at home, my way.

Also, when I order burgers, if there are 3 things I don’t want in it, I don’t bother. Those things are pickles, mayo/aioli/mustard/unknown sauce. I’ve never tasted a pickle and don’t want to start now!

*a big plus about Asperger’s, for me, is that with time I improve. Life in general gets easier, and I fit in more. These days I am used to fears and disasters, so those words overstate how I am affected these days.

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Finding Similar People

I have mostly not tried to find other people on the spectrum, primarily because a) I didn’t know I was and b) they didn’t appeal to me. For many, normalising is a goal, and you don’t get that from hanging out with people who accept and understand your oddities. Do you want to only hang out with people who use sign language, or learn to speak/hear like the rest of the planet?

And yet, in predictable and unpredictable ways, I found them, and I like being with them (not exclusively).

My working life was very low level (think cleaner, car park attendant) until the Internet came along. So I work in tech now and a large (far more more than general society) number of my co-workers are clearly on the spectrum. However most of them are Hindu (married young) or Muslim (don’t drink), and from different cultures, so there isn’t much socialising to be had.

My social life has fared much better. Although long-winded and awkward, because I love live music (confronting the noise of loud rock because it is worth it) and I frequent the same places frequently, I get to recognise other people like me (in the far back corner, never interacting, not dancing) and eventually I might or they might break the ice.

I have tried to go to intellectual hangouts – public lectures, book clubs and so on – but they weren’t the right spot for me. When lectures finished and people lingered and chatted, I just left.

Pool (as in billiards) has made a big difference to my world. I’ve been playing it all my life and so have many other people on the spectrum. It just fits:

  • an entry into the normal, bloke world
  • hours of solitary obsession, practise and perfection
  • performed in very social spaces (bars)
  • not much communication required
  • angles

Consequently I have been drawn to playing pool in bars, pool comps and billiard halls…

…and as I have learned more about autism, I have recognised traits more, and those places are full of us.

So lucky for me I:

  • had a friend who also liked playing pool (as opposed to going to such places on my own)
  • found a bar with pool and a lot of mostly single, lonely middle-aged men who like pool
  • have the lovely scenario of being good at something in a realm of social lubricants

Basically I have found a magnet for people like me, and we all get along great, camaraderie. People on the spectrum – in my experienced to be very forgiving and empathetic. And we generally listen to each other’s long-winded stories and explanations.

Alongside that, and not so easy, I found love on a generic dating app because her profile had a tiny hint of spectrum in the wording. So, keep an eye out!

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The Barest Minimum (Long Version)

 

People who know me often ask for a strictly yes or no answer, and I don’t comply.

It is based on a fear of getting things wrong, or that people will misunderstand you. So the idea is to be as unambiguous as possible. Which means a deep dive.

For example:

Do you want to watch the All Blacks match at the Nags Head on Saturday? Yes or no please Rob.

But I won’t stay if I have to stand, and I won’t stay if it is too loud, and I won’t come if there is a family emergency that takes priority… but yes, sounds good.

 

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Steak Knife

I have decided not to rename this blog “UpSide Down Steak Knife” because it might alienate my zero followers.

However, more than once lately, I have discovered that accidentally using a steak knife the wrong way up isn’t very functional.

Note: this never happens with regular knives, so the food must be triggering this.

Note: this post will rank well on Google for “UpSide Down Steak Knife”, number 1 probably.

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Recognising People from the Future

This is a big tangent. I suspect my (very minor) psychic powers and (very weak) magical powers are somehow connected to autism. I have inherited all of them from my grandmother…

As a skeptic, and a scientist at heart, I know I have on occasion recognised people from my future. It never has occurred when it has a reasonable possibility, like a first date or a new job. It always catches me by surprise. These days I am bold, I call it out and I am never wrong (but it is rare, way less than once a year). Like all things magic, it is primarily a curiosity and of no actual use.

For years now I have be been noticing character actors in TV shows and knowing I have seen them before in something. So I check them out on Wikipedia… sometimes they have had a bit part in something I had watched previously, and I go OK, that explains it – they made quite an impression.

But just as often they have never been in anything I have seen, which was puzzling.

I can’t recall all of those previous instances, but I have a hypothesis. Today’s instance is Midnight Mass, and the lead character Riley. I am heavily invested in this show and loving it. In the short term this show is an important part of my life, in terms of thoughts and feelings (mission accomplished, creators). I know him from the first scene, have seen him before. But according to the Internet, I have never seen this actor before.

I believe my “recognising people from the future” applies to entertainment as well.

(so not provable…)

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Dampening OCD

I am realising that the coping mechanism of dampening inputs, goes beyond lessening autistic responses.

I don’t know if my OCD is a part of the autism, but the dampening helps it enormously.

Just like regular people stop hearing repetitive noises after prolonged exposure, my brain has learned to dampen all inputs (sounds, smells, physical sensations, interactions with people) so that I can cope.

My OCD is real, but rarely externalised beyond quite common traits like straightening things or fidgeting. I am obsessed with removing stray hairs that are missed from shaving… but nothing detrimental to me or too obvious to others.

I have had phases though, like not stepping on cracks – but they always disappear, even after years – though they are always there waiting to return, hiding around the corner.

The worst were suicidal thoughts, because I am not suicidal, I’m about as far from that as anyone can be. But once the thought enters my head, it can be persistent, in specific situations.

My fear of heights is pretty much a fear that I could choose to jump.

At train stations, for years, I would hold onto a post in case I decided to jump in front of a train. I wasn’t wanting to, but I feared that I might choose to. Two different things.

I had the same when driving, the idea that I could cross over into oncoming traffic. On occasions I would have to pull over… the equivalent of grabbing a post at the train station.

My OCD is primarily internal – repetitive thoughts. They are mostly an annoyance, thinking the same thing in the same situation, for no benefit. Every time it is my turn to play online Scrabble with Deborah, I hear the chorus of the T Rex song of the same name. Multiply that by hundreds of every day situations and if you put a regular person in my head, they would instantly go insane.

I have to read every sign I walk past, even though I already know what it says.

I have often thought about being a stalker. Every possibility on the spectrum of good/evil crosses my mind at some time, that I could do or be something good or evil. Evil is more dramatic and interesting to think about.

But here’s the thing – nothing catches on, I don’t externalise much, and I cope with the persistent thoughts. They are a lingering oddity, that are always there. I think I have got off lightly because my brain dampens everything, including the obsessive, repetitive thoughts.

The dampening is also detrimental:

  • I am crap at cooking, I don’t pay attention. My desire to pay attention is dampened
  • I couldn’t pay attention at school. Some kids/teachers thought I was always stoned. No, I was simply dampening inputs
  • I don’t notice romantic advances. Because I could obsessively get things wrong, I have dampened that input. I literally have said no to someone inviting me back to their place for a cup of tea. So women have to really make it clear and obvious
  • Likewise I don’t make advances, it is necessarily something that has been dampened, otherwise I would become the serial hitting-on-women pest creep we all dislike
  • A few times in dangerous/emergency situations I calmly observe instead of reacting, responding or helping – this is not good

These are all things that in theory I can actively overcome. For example, on occasion I let myself feel emotions when watching the news. Without the dampening I would cry every time I watched the news – but I do seem to let it happen sometimes.

Gun to my head could I concentrate while cooking and not overcook/burn something? Absolutely.

 

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Late Diagnosis

Tom Cutler was diagnosed late, like me. And unlike most medical diagnoses, it was good news, it solved the why. A couple of excerpts from his excellent article, all of which I relate to:

During one pub lunch, after I’d wolfed down a sandwich while they laughed and chatted over their roast beef one of them asked me sharply, “Why do you never savour a meal?” My aloof social disposition was damaging friendships. People have told me that when I think I am smiling, I’m actually frowning. I was astonished recently when somebody showed me photographs of myself at a wedding. Everyone around me was smiling beautifully. I looked positively unpleasant.

…when I was studying art at university, bohemian parties were frequent. I would force myself to go but usually ended up alone, looking through bookshelves or staring into my glass. I always seemed to say the wrong thing and people found me brusque, abrupt, or stupefyingly rude.

…Among my other special interests are vehicle numberplate typography, the shapes disguised as letters used on eye-test charts, and above all British road sign design.

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Internal Inconsistencies

When watching movie/TV, and I am engaged, I can easily suspend belief with the most ridiculous scenarios. But the internal logic needs to work. When it doesn’t I can rattle off my issues with it as a list at the end.

I wouldn’t notice if someone’s watch was on the left wrist one scene and right wrist the next. That’s a mistake, not bad writing.

I’m watching Safe on Netflix… so far… off the top of my head:

  • The surgeon releases stress by punching a bag – that’s not a thing
  • Bright daylight becomes night in the time it takes to walk half a mile
  • Someone gets the IP address of a text message and manages to install a tracker on their phone
  • Someone falls into a lake but when they climb into the car shortly after they are dry
  • They are struggling to get a body up warehouse steps and then suddenly they are back home with the body – which would’ve taken more effort
  • In a car chase the chased gets a 5 second advantage and the chaser instantly says, well we’ve lost him
  • The police don’t immediately check the CCTV of the gated community
  • The “suspects” try to act normal by having a BBQ, with no guests and no sound and high fences – nobody would have noticed
  • The blood on the sweat shirt is way too substantial for the blood nose of the fight he broke up. It was sodden
  • And, sorry, but the ethnic mix in a gated estate in the UK seems forced, too PC
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