The Dino-Aspie Cafe (for Those 40+... or feeling creaky)

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I was a decent hunter by the age of eighteen. My grandfather seemed to enjoy making me do things that scared me and shoving a shotgun in my hands at seven was one his pleasures. Not that he was wrong, since it is the way he learned, too. When I got used to the "four ten" he gave me a sixteen guage, etc. It was ducks that are not so common in parts of West Texas. We had travel for a duck hunt, but there was plenty of other stuff to learn on, right there, like quail.

I can only think of a very few times I have gotten even close to half of a bottle down, before passing out. I'm just not a heavy drinker. I drank a lot, but never very much at any one time.

The Army wouldn't take me, when I went for a physical, which kind of depressed me, because I thought of myself as somewhat of an athlete. I was in good shape and played on the all-star baseball team in high school, but I have bad feet. (???)

I agree with this sentiment, but I would not be opposed to a dedicated place. I would probably bookmark it and visit more often, if I did not have to dodge the recently born. I honestly can't afford the Kleenex bills.

Good Morning. It's 8:32 am here.

Lupine and Rjaye, I'm happy that you liked my poem and that you got it. Rjaye I am looking forward to reading your poem.

I woke up this morning thinking this planet, this cafe, was a cruel joke fabricated by NT's to suck in Aspies and then after they "spilled" their guts", block them, so in essence they would be talking to themselves. I compared it to the time when we had just moved onto this street and a neighbor introduced herself to me and told me that a group of neighbors got together in the evenings down in front of her house to chat. She invited me to come down and join them anytime. I finally got up my nerve, packed the baby into his stroller and with the older chicks following along walked down to join the group. When we got there they completely ignored us. It was like we did not exist. This turned out to be a good thing. I kept to myself after that and pursued my interests with a greater passion. The woman, the initiator, continued at intervals to use her suck on me. Once she came down and sat on my front porch. I asked her to leave and she wouldn't. I told her I was going to call the cops and she said 'go ahead" I couldn't believe this was happening and became really upset. Crying, I called my husband at work and told him what was happening. He said "Do you have any scrub water lying around. I said yes, that I did. He said, "Take it out and throw it on her." I did and it was a wonderful, crazy experience. The kids were yelling and clapping and beside themselves with glee. The moral "Always keep a bucket of scrub water handy". And, if you feel like you're on the Wrong Planet, you probably are. If you feel like you don't exist, you certainly do.

cosmiccat,

I am still reading your poem. It does have a smooth feel on the first few readings, but the meaning keeps changing. My quick study and information gleaning, became stuck in an ever slowing loup.

I am now rereading half lines over and over, and still sinking deeper in. It could take enjoyable years.

Motorcycle!

1960, New Orleans, a 1957 Puch 250cc Twingle, Free at at last!

1964, Berkley, 1959 Harley Sportster

1973, New Mexico, 1963 BMW R69s, my current bike.

ah. . .I think Bazza has already educated us about where ma' darlin' Harold came from, but yes, I was in Vancouver (looking for a Harold of my own!) in the early 70's and lived with some friends of friends in Surry for a couple of months. I was truly enamored of the "hotel life' and the oddity of people from Scotland BEING Scottish, and German people still BEING German, and Asian peoples BEING Asian. . well maybe not the Asians, but in The States everyone homogenizes into being American - not so much to be that "America" but because outsiders who retain their own national identity are considered suspect, but not in CANADA!

However, Canada was not enamored of a homeless outlaw girl with no money and no education and was more than cool to my answer to their invitation to "Make Our Home, Your Home" that they offered mostly to those from The States avoiding being on the business end of Vietnam. Let's just say they facillitated my return back to Washington State and asked me not to come across the raspberry farm right smack on the border again.

( we used to smuggle across the border by having the guys drive us to the raspberry farm, where we would put on four or five layers of big trash sacks to our feet and legs, walk the contraband across the border through the rain or snow, and then meet them on the road on the other side, strip off the bags and toss them away, so if we got stopped by anyone, we were clean and dry on our feet!) DISCLAIMER: statutes of limitations have elasped.
The Mounties look so beautiful and cool in their red suits, but you really don't want to cross them!


Merle

In all reality, Bazza, perhaps not. My own brother and I got into a lifelong tiff because he signed up with the Army and went to Viet Nam and I was busy getting my head beat in at the Festival of Life in Lincoln Park in Chicago in 1968 at the Democratic Convention.

We talked once 30 years later when my dad passed.

So probably not, but I am glad to know you now, Bazza!

Merle

Last edited by sinsboldly on 11 Apr 2007, 8:28 pm, edited 1 time in total.

I don't understand this behavior. Why would a woman come and sit on your porch and not leave when asked? What do think was going on in her mind?

I still have a compilation edition stashed away in the garage.
Until I scan that one, here's a pic I plucked off the web.

Gorgeous poem, CCat.

Welcome back, DirtDawg.

DD

It has been suggested that I should visit the Aspie Dino Cafe
So I will reiterate a bit of my first two posts for those who have not seen them as a way of introduction.

---------- previous info starts here ----------
I have takent the aspie quiz and passed at 142 out of 200 & the second quiz 42 out of 50 and found out that a bunch of wierd qirky things about me that run in our family are actually aspie traits. Now that I am 62, what avenues can / should I investigate to better deal with my gifts & burdens.

I am tempted to pursue getting an official diagnosis just to add some clout to my recommendation that any grand children, grand nieces & grand nephews with odd characteristics (about 40% of them) be reviewed to see if AS is a more accurate diagnosis to direct the support they recieve. Is there any other advantage to getting an official diagnosis, and who does one see about it anyway?

Frankly I would not take a cure in exchange for my gifts. I may be eccentric but I can do some unusual things. I can, and do, go into altered mental states where I concentrate far beyond normal and accomplish creative tasks that amaze even me after the fact. It only takes 15 or 20 minutes as it seems for me, but when I come out I am exhausted and it is 6 to 8 hours later, but it gets things done. However, I wish I could stop embarassing myself so badly when I meet people out of the context where I know them and haven't a clue who they are. ..... You get the picture, I think, based on what else I have read here. I have had a diagnosis of dyslexia before, but it left so much unanswered. And Asperger's seems to cover all known quirks and a bunch of things that I regarded as unrelated oddities until now.

I sometimes separate my logical self from my emotional self. It a way it is like my logical self is a spectator watching my emotional self and not having to go through the feelings that my emotional self is struggling with. It is an excellent way to get through depressing experiences, (I is a defense).

When I need to, my emotional self can negotiate communication with the rest of the population (NT's). It gives me the appearance of somehow wierdly having gone emotionally flat (Kinda like the Spock character on Star Treck). It is not like what is depicted for multiple personality however because there is no separate identity and all components are integrated in a sense. When the emotional self is just not able to deal rationally, I just keep the logical functions in the drivers seat so to speak but the emotional stuff is going on and I am fully aware of it. And I don't do the "spectatoring" (my term for it) thing unless there is a need. It is a coping skill that I regard as a gift that I sometimes need to ride out an emotional storm.

P.S. if there is a standard name for this skill / gift / quirk, I would like to know what it is.
--------------- previous info ends here -----------

Ok that is an introduction to where I am, and I could bore or entertain yoiu with an additional litany of other quirky things. But I can save that for later.

I have to admit that "Dino-Aspie" sounds a lot better than "eccentric old fart" but my wife is asking what good is there in knowing about asperger's and that it apparantly applies to me if I can't do anything with that information. Well, yes there is the fellowship thing, but that doesn't do her much good, so how about some suggestions on how to utilize this new found treasure trove (while I am still alive and kicking).

Hey, outlander.

I think there's lots of benefit to learning about how others experience/cope with their AS. It's never too late to learn a new trick, old dog. Spoken from a fellow old dog, of course....

Your wife might like to participate for the same reasons -- lots of friends and family find it helpful.

DD

Hi, Prof,

I'm still getting up to speed, since I haven't been around for a while. I just saw the part about your brother.

I can remember quite a bit of common sense and comic relief that I've associated with your posts. I know we don't know each other, but I want to send my condolences for your loss. Your brother was a fascinating individual. I hope some of the bumps smooth out, as you work things into a more comfortable status, once again.

Last edited by DirtDawg on 11 Apr 2007, 2:50 pm, edited 1 time in total.

Hi all,

I've asked Alex to create a forum in the General Discussion area for Dino-Aspies. I think it will be easier for newcomers and old-timers to find us. So, if this thread disappears from the "Getting to Know Each Other" forum, that's where we'll be.

Thanks, DogDancer.
I also answer to DD, so I'm going to be confused and talking to myself, before long. Try to ignore that if you can.

I used to feel that way about a pocket book I had in the Seventies. A big furry cavern. I could never seem to get to the bottom of it, and when I did, I often forgot what I went in for. My lipstick? My cigarettes? My Swiss army knife? As long as the years spent trying to get it are enjoyable, whatever you pull up will be worth the effort.