Another Spectrum

Personal ramblings and rants of a somewhat twisted mind


Leave a comment

Balmy Summer Days

As we head into late February and temperature climbing above 29°C (84°F), today, my thoughts had turned to enjoying a pleasant relaxed day accompanied by some equally relaxing music. Then the painters arrived.

We’ve contracted painter to give the exterior of the house a total going over – all three storeys. The next few days are going to be constant noise with water blasters and minor repairs taking place before the painting starts in earnest. Not precisely a relaxing atmosphere.

Normally on days like this, the ranchsliders (Kiwi name for aluminium framed glass panel sliding doors) and windows are fully open to allow any breeze to flow through the house keeping temperatures in the comfortable range. Not today. While I might just be able to tolerate the noise (perhaps), the jet and spray from the water blasters are a different matter altogether. So they are all closed for the moment.

Best I can do is suffer the heat – anything over 25°C (77°F) is above my comfort zone, hope that headphones played up loud will drown out the water blaster, and listen to music while pretending to sit under a tree in dappled shade listening to songs such as in the three video clips below. Not sure why, but I’m in the right frame of mind to listen to songs such as these.

Bic Runga – Something Good
Something Good

 Just wanna know ya
 Just wanna talk to ya
 I wanna hear about your day
 I'd never leave ya
 Never be mean to ya
 I'd always let you get your way

 Something good will come our way
 And maybe this good thing's gonna happen today

 If I were honest
 I'd tell you everything
 But it keeps coming out as lies
 Its' not a promise
 In case your wondering
 It's not some blessing in disguise
 
 Something good will come our way
 And maybe this good thing's gonna happen today
 Something good will come our way
 And maybe this good thing's gonna happen today

 I know romance is not in fashion
 And my heart is on the line
 If you would be so kind
 To help me kill some time
 Then something good just might come crashing
 From the stars that light the sky
 If you would be so kind
 To help me kill some time

 Just wanna know ya
 Just wanna talk to ya
 I wanna hear about your day
 I'd never leave ya
 Never be mean to ya
 I'd always let you get your way

 Something good will come our way
 And maybe this good thing's gonna happen today
 Something good will come our way
 And maybe this good thing's gonna happen today
 Something good will come our way
 And maybe this good thing's gonna happen today
 Something good will come our way
 And maybe this good thing's gonna happen today
TEEKS – Remember Me
Remember me

 I wish I had the strength
 To tell you how I feel
 I wish I was brave
 Like the soldier on the battlefield
 See, my heart it races
 Every time you're around
 And I try so hard to speak
 But I can't seem to make a sound
 
 I know that if I walk away
 I'll wonder what you would have said
 And if you felt the same
 But if you don't
 It's okay
 
 I'll be right here waiting if you change your mind
 I don't care how long it takes
 I don't care about my pride
 If it's a thousand years
 Or a thousand more
 I'll be waiting
 And darling all I ask
 Please remember me
 Please remеmber me
 
 I wish I had rhythm
 Maybe I'd ask you to dancе
 I wish I could hold you
 Like my father holds my mother's hand
 
 I know that if I walk away
 I'll wonder what you would have said
 And if you felt the same
 But if you don't
 It's okay
 
 I'll be right here waiting if you change your mind
 I don't care how long it takes
 I don't care about my pride
 If it's a thousand years
 Or a thousand more
 I'll be waiting
 And darling all I ask
 I'll be right here waiting if you change your mind
 I don't care how long it takes
 I don't care about my pride
 If it's a thousand years
 Or a thousand more
 I'll be waiting
 And darling all I ask
 Please remember me
 Please remember me
 Please remember me

 All I ask
 Please remember me
Goldenhorse – Maybe Tomorrow
Maybe Tomorrow

 There's a story I know
 We all leave and let go
 There is nothing to hold us

 In a moment of time
 When the fruit becomes wine
 And the thought becomes the memory

 All of your sorrow
 Maybe tomorrow
 Will fade away in the air

 Trying to please me
 Making it easy
 It won't be there
 It won't be there
 In your life
 In your life

 There's a story I know
 We all leave and let go
 There is nothing to hold us

 In a moment of time
 When the fruit becomes wine
 And the thought becomes the memory

 All of your sorrow
 Maybe tomorrow
 Will fade away in the air

 Trying to please me
 Making it easy
 It won't be there
 It won't be there
 In your life
 In your life

 All of your sorrow
 Maybe tomorrow
 Will fade away in the air

 Trying to please me
 Making it easy
 It won't be there
 It won't be there
 In your life
 In your life
 In your life
 Oh, In your life


14 Comments

Triggers

Many folk who have experienced a trauma develop emotional triggers that can be set off by apparently innocuous events. This is perfectly understandable. I have a few of my own.

Usually, when someone is triggered others display some degree of empathy or sympathy to that person and make some allowances for the response. Usually, the party or event that inadvertently caused the trigger is not considered blameworthy because there is usually no reason for them to think their action could be harmful..

So how come, no matter whether I’m the trigger or the triggered, I’m an arsehole and the other party is the victim. How does that work?


5 Comments

How to embarrass yourself…

Use the word twink in an online forum where you’re possibly the only Kiwi.


I discovered a new use (for me) of that term today, and it was definitely not what I had in mind. Here in Aotearoa New Zealand, Twink is the leading brand of correction fluid. It’s also become a generic term when referring to correction fluid in general. It’s used as a verb to name the action of correcting a (typing) mistake much the same way as hover is used in the UK to name the action of vacuuming.

New Zealand’s most popular brand of correction fluid


1 Comment

Jet boating NZ style

For most of my regular readers the remote possibility of visiting Aotearoa New Zealand has become even more remote since the arrival of the current pandemic, and for the foreseeable future is likely to remain so.

I’m now at the age where an adrenaline rush does little more than remind me that my body isn’t what it once was. I prefer to reminisce and relive past experiences from memory rather than seek out new ones.

With that in mind, here’s a modern video clip of the same experience I had on the same river forty-nine years ago. As far as I can recall, the boat appears to be identical to the one I rode in way back in April 1971.

Rushing through a narrow river valley with literally just a few inches of water beneath you while travelling at a speed of 80 kph (50 mph) relative to the water (somewhat faster relative to the valley walls on the downstream run) definitely does create an adrenaline rush, but unlike a bungy jump, it’s not over in a few seconds. The g-forces you’re subject to apparently are similar to those experienced on a rollercoaster but as I have never ridden a roller coaster, I am not able to confirm. Certainly, decelerating from full speed to a standstill in just a boat length while doing a 360 degree turn (otherwise known as a Hamilton turn) is an unforgettable sensation.

So without further ado, here’s a recreation of my jet boat experience five decades on. I recommend you take the link to Youtube and watch it at full screen.

Here’s another jet boat tour. Observe the terrain you pass through on your way to the river.

If g-forces are your thing, then hitch a ride in jet sprint boat. These boats can accelerate from 0 to 130 Kph (80 mph) in less than 2 seconds. The top boats can pull 7 g-forces while maneuvering through the course. I’ve been told that there are more jet sprint tracks in this country than race car tracks. The jet sprint park below is about a forty minute drive from where I live.

On the other hand, if a little bit of white water is your thing, there’s rides such as this one at Taupō.

or this (but I’d recommend wearing a safety helmet here).


Leave a comment

And on the fourth week…

Kia ora e hoa

It’s getting difficult to remember when it was “normal” around here. I’m not referring to COVID-19. That returned to normal many weeks ago. In fact lockdown and its precautions are definitely a fading memory

No, the normal I’m referring to is the one we had prior to the commencement of bathroom renovations. Today marks the start of the fourth week of a major makeover of the upper floor toilet and bathroom including expansion into the roof cavity and the installation of a skylight, converting part of the roof cavity into a walk in wardrobe for the adjacent bedroom, the installation of a solar light tube to brighten up a dark corner of the dining room, the removal of two woodburners at opposite ends of the main floor that are too expensive to run and maintain, and the renovation of the toilet on the main floor.

Apart from weekends, the place has been a hive of activity with chippies, sparkies, plumbers and others constantly traversing between the basement garage and the upper floor via the main floor. Part of the basement has been taken over by storage of bathroom fixtures and part as a temporary workshop where larger equipment such as circular saws, framing jigs and whatnot have been set up. This way, most work can be carried out regardless of the weather.

The problem with this arrangement is that the garage doors and every door between the garage and the bathroom seem to be open more often than not. To make matters worse, for much of the last three weeks, the renovation area has been open to the uninsulated roof space. It’s the middle of winter here, and the stairwell extending over the three floors has been acting as a funnel drawing all the heat generated on the main floor up to the top floor and out into the roof space. In the process it draws cold air from the basement and distributes it across the main floor.

The airflow from basement to roof space has been exacerbated over the past ten days by strong easterly winds that rush through the open garage doors and create a hurricane-like gale up the stairwell. I’ve taken to switching off the heatpump when the first of the workers arrives at around 7:30 in the morning and not turning it back on until the last of them leaves when it starts to get dark at around 5:00 as its heat output, even on maximum is miniscule compared to the draught up the stairwell. Effectively, all the heat generated was being transferred outside. Let’s just say it’s been decidedly chilly over the last few weeks.

Thankfully the builders have almost finished their work on the upper floor bathroom/toilet renovation – The only major task remaining is the installation of the skylight. Weather permitting, that should all be done by tommorrow. After that, it should be much quieter for a while as the plumbers, sparkies, floorers and such finish off their work.

It never occurred to me to take some “before” photos of the project, so although I have captured a few at major milestones since, you’re all spared a series of photo blogs of “work in progress”. I’ve also realised that the phone camera is not up to the task of recording the work. Bathrooms are relatively small and unless the camera has a wide angle mode, which mine doesn’t, it’s not possible to capture more than a small section of wall/floor/ceiling at a time. I suppose it might be possible to use panorama mode to create a better field of view, but it’s not something I’ve experimented with. Perhaps a video clip that pans around the room might be another option.

My home office is almost directly below the upper floor bathroom and at this point in time the noise is becoming decidedly unpleasant. I’m not sure what they’re doing, but the sound that is emanating from above reminds me very much of a dentist’s drill. So I think it’s time to withdraw and find a quite corner in which to hole up. So for now, ka kite anō.


1 Comment

It does surprise me how well Michael’s Summary of the year here Aotearoa New Zealand matches my feelings even though I’m a whole generation older. So rather than try to re-invent the wheel, I invite my readers to read his post.

Oh, and Michael, keep blogging. You really have been conspicuous by your absence over recent months.

While I have been conspicuous by my absence, New Zealand has been conspicuous for all the wrong reasons. New Zealand is the place I call home. It is my country of birth, the place where my wife was born and the birthplace of my children. In my limited time on this planet I have seen […]

via Conspicuous — Michael Bracey


Leave a comment

Why did I say?

I have at any one time, a number of unpublished posts on WordPress (currently 23 29). Some of these may eventually be published, but the majority are used by me as sounding boards where I write down and develop thought and feelings that exist in my mind but lack words or visual context. In a way, I’m translating my thought processes into a form that I might be able to use in dialogue with other people.

Outside of the blogosphere, I do exactly the same, except the thought processes are kept in small mental “notepads” where concepts have been converted into streams of words at various levels of completeness. During most of my waking hours, I’m constantly moving from notepad to notepad revising the content so that I can recite it should a need to communicate with fellow human beings arise. I find speaking “off the cuff” difficult at the best of times times, even with friends and family. I rely to a large extent on finalised or nearly finalised notepad scripts. I can really put my foot in it if the only appropriate script hasn’t been well prepared.

Quite simply, I don’t think in words or images, yet I’m unable to communicate with fellow humans without making an effort to convert “thought blobs” into strings of spoken or written words, otherwise known as sentences and paragraphs, or larger objects such as a blog post or opinion piece. I struggle with conversations because of the necessity to convert incoming words into “thought blobs” and then to reverse engineer my thoughts back into word streams. Social interactions require almost instantaneous conversions in both directions and although I can convert incoming word streams into thought processes reasonably quickly (providing there are no other word streams within earshot, or some other distraction) and with moderate accuracy (providing there are no other word streams within earshot, or some other distraction), reversing the process is much more difficult, not to mention exhausting.

While most of the unpublished WordPress articles start out with the intent to publish, the process of putting words to what I wish to express, exposes a “weakness” in the way I process ideas. That is I find it very difficult to put forward an argument in a way that is meaningful to those who don’t process thought in the same way as I do.

Some articles simply stop part way through, waiting for the moment where I can add flesh to the bare bones of what I have written. Sometimes, the effort of translating thought into words reveals flaws in my logic, but not necessarily providing me with a solution. These articles will sit there until either I realise the premise is not worth considering and I delete the offending article, or I find a solution and publish after considerable revision.

Most posts languish because I realise I’m unable to do the translation from thought blobs into meaningful dialogue. A bit like running an automated translator over some complex idea presented in a language that has absolutely no relationship with your own. For example here’s the previous paragraph after it was translated into another language and back into English:

Part of this information is just waiting for conversion at any time period beyond the quality of the bone with different answers. Sometimes, someone wants to understand the cut word, but does not provide a solution. In this approach, Until I understand this data, I will pull the information or find a solution after a constructive publication.

Sometimes, when I review what I have previously written, especially if it’s largely abstract, philosophical or religious in nature, it makes about as much sense as the translation above. There’s a few unpublished articles which currently are about as understandable as the example above, but a few days from now those article might make sense and others might appear as nonsense to me. What others might make of them is another matter.

Even this post, which I’ve published as a consequence of something I did a few hours weeks ago, consists mostly of content for an unpublished post about how I convert the way I translate my thought processes into English, and the fact that even though I’ve just recently turned 70, I still struggle with the process.

Perhaps my biggest issue is that language is linear – within sentences, within paragraphs, within stories. While perhaps the best communicators are those who are linear, I struggle with the whole concept of linearity. For me, there is no beginning, middle or end: there’s just a whole, (or if I’m confused about something, there’s just a hole).

Another issue is that I don’t see anything in absolute terms. This gives rise to some people interpreting what I say/write as being vague. Ashley of The Boastful Blasphemer is convinced that I’m “the most wishy-washy, waffling, non-committal, vague, imprecise, escape-hatch-leaving ‘debater’ I’ve ever talked to“. While I completely disagree with the “escape-hatch-leaving” part, there might be an element of truth in the rest. There are no absolute truths. Every fact is open to interpretation (even if we don’t realise that is what we are doing).

I have at times stated that I have no notion of time. This is probably somewhat inaccurate. I understand the notion of time – I am unable to experience time. Most people seem to remember events in terms of chronological distance. They seem to instinctively know approximately how long ago personal experiences occurred. I have absolutely no idea. I’m only able to remember the relative significance of various events. Important events are close while less important events are distant. This even applies to the present moment.

For example when experiencing a migraine, everything occurring in the “now” is distant and may be further away than events that occurred even decades ago. In such circumstances the past is more “real”, and certainly more immediate than the present. After the migraine is over, everything I experienced during the attack remains distant. A good example of this might be the first time I saw my first grandchild. I had a migraine at the time. I have absolutely no memory of the actual event. The only “memory” of the event is the description provided by my wife and daughter several years later.

This brings up another factor: With a very few exceptions, I have no visual memory of past experiences, nor can I create a visual picture of an event. For this reason, I find it difficult to distinguish between events I experience directly and those described to me by other means. The above incident with my first grandchild is one example. For a while I thought I was able to describe the incident from my own experience. Later I realised that there were discrepancies in my “recollection” that turned out to be the way I interpreted the event as described by my wife and daughter.

Here’s another example. My daughter’s home has tall picket fence at the front, about as tall as I am, nearly as old, and unpainted. Now you know as much about her front fence as I do. I probably could not identify it from a photo lineup of similar fences any better than you could with the description I’ve provided. Oh, there’s a row of trees and bushes on the property side of the fence. So if only one photo matched that description, and one of the photos was definitely a picture of my daughters fence-line, then that would be the photo I’d pick. But then knowing the facts that I’ve just provided, you would be able to do exactly the same thing. And you’ve never seen the place.

Fortunately there’s no other property in the same block that matches the description above, so finding it is not difficult. If there was a similar fence-line, I’d have to memorise a different set of parameters that made the daughter’s property uniquely identifiable.

What some of you might be able to do is create a mental image of the fence-line I’ve described. While it’s very unlikely to be an accurate image, it’s something you can “see” in your imagination. I can’t. I rely on the information I’ve specifically set out to remember. Specifically, there is a thought blob that when translated into English indicates last block in street, on left, picket fence, my height, my age, unpainted, trees behind. There is no picture associated with that description.

In the local New World supermarket milk products are located on shelving at the back left corner of the store. It is the south west corner of the store and diagonally opposite the entrance, which is at the front right, north east corner of the store. Now you know as much as I do, and if I were to place you in front of the supermarket, you could find your way to the milk section just as easily as I can. What I can’t do is describe what my eyes have seen when I visit.

This lack of visual memory can lead to potentially embarrassing moments such as the one recently described in I wonder what she wants? I learnt a long time ago to be careful of relying too much on distinguishing personal features. It’s rather embarrassing to discover the person you’ve been talking to for the last ten minutes is not who you thought she was, but a total (but friendly) stranger.

I’m not even immune from failing to immediately identifying my wife, and we’ve been together for 48 years. When we go out, I make a note of what she’s wearing. Remembering that information, along with the fact that she’s likely the shortest oldish person of Asian appearance is usually sufficient for a visual identification. While that description is reasonably reliable here in Aotearoa New Zealand where approximately one in eight people are of Asian descent (and around one in twelve in our hometown) , I discovered it wasn’t so helpful in Japan where the ratio is more like 999 in 1000 are of Asian descent, although she is still significantly shorter than average, even in Japan.

A further visual clue is her gait. It’s rather reminiscent of how a cowboy might walk after a week in the saddle. While it’s not exactly what could be described as elegant, it’s a godsend when it comes to identifying her when in this country, but again, in Japan not so much as many women of her generation, especially from farming families, walk in a similar manner

So how do I recognise people? Mostly by voice. I’ve found that to be the most reliable for me. In fact, as there are no other forms of distraction, I can usually recognise someone on the telephone faster than in a face to face situation. If I happen meet someone I know while I’m out and about, there’s a good chance I won’t recognise them unless they speak to me, and even then, the distractions of sights and sounds might be enough to delay recognition for some time. At home or in the office, there’s much less distraction, and I can usually recognise the caller before they’ve identified themselves.

As I was diagnosed as having a 90% hearing loss when I was seven years old, I wonder why I am able to recognise voices so well. But that’s a conversation for another time.

I know face blindness is more common in autistic people than is the general population, and I wonder if a lack of visual memory and thought without words or images are also more prevalent. To date I haven’t seen any discussion of this, but perhaps its something other autistics experience and haven’t realised that it’s not what most people experience.


1 Comment

Five years already?

I’m not the most regular, proficient or prolific blogger, but I’m surprised that today marks the 5th anniversary of Another Spectrum. When I started this blog, my intent was to use it as a platform for discussing  the autism spectrum (hence the blog title) and migraine with occasional detours into other topics. But it my life is more than these two conditions, and it seems that it is the same with my blogging interests.

I wonder what interests I’ll blog about over the next five years?


1 Comment

“You and mum help make this happen”

These were the words my daughter used to accompany a video clip sent to me via WhatsApp earlier today. To me they are very humbling words indeed. This is not because in any way we were directly involved in facilitating “this” to happen, although perhaps there is an indirect link in that we provided child care and dog sitting services at times to enable her to make “this” happen.

Instead I would like to think that what she is showing appreciation for is in regards to the values we encouraged her to develop, and which she expresses – participation in “this” being but one example. I’m uncomfortable using the word “proud” for my part in her development because it can be used in ways that are closer to boasting, and I don’t want to imply that our daughter is who she is simply because we as her parents made her that way.

I’m convinced that the saying “It takes a village to raise a child” is accurate, and as parents, we are just one of the many influences that have played out in our children’s and grandchildren’s lives. And even in saying that, we have to acknowledge that we too are products of the environment in which we developed, including parents, whānau, and the wider community. So I cannot claim be the originator of any of the values my offspring hold dear. At best, I’ve been a conduit, and perhaps, only in a very small way, an enabler.

I acknowledge that I have often fallen short as a parent, and it has been my children who have shown me how to be a better parent and human being, and for that I will be forever grateful. And yet our daughter takes a moment to say “You and mum help make this happen”. I can’t find a word or phrase that describes my reaction to her statement, but I hope the sentiments are clear enough from what I have written here.


As to the “this” referred to above, I have been contemplating whether or not to identify the occasion. My reason is that I’m somewhat anonymous on this blog. Although there’s enough information available for anyone to discover my real identity if they had a mind to, it would take a small amount of work to do so. And the possibility of someone who knows me stumbling across this blog is extremely small.

Experience during my formative years taught me to be cautious about how I expressed myself, and I learnt the hard way that there are boundaries (which I still can’t always recognise) that can’t be crossed without very unpleasant consequences. Although I believe our society is far more tolerant and liberal today, the caution within me remains. The relative anonymity provided by this blog allows me to express views that I would be reluctant to share in the “real world”.

But in light of the fact that “this” is a public expression opposing the very thing that makes me so cautious, I cannot help but feel duty-bound to share it here, even at the risk of making my identity easier to discover. I could perhaps not mention that our daughter identifies herself by name and role in one of the Facebook video clips linked to below, but I want to publicly acknowledge that one of my greatest teachers about life has been my daughter, which is why I find her statement humbling.

“This” refers to a local street party declaring that bullying is not acceptable. It is never “character building”. Its only function is to cause harm.