Louisiana's Tom Sawyer

A modern-day warrior
Mean mean stride,
Todays Tom Sawyer
Mean mean pride.

Though his mind is not for rent,
Dont put him down as arrogant.
His reserve, a quiet defense,
Riding out the days events.
The river

And what you say about his company
Is what you say about society.
Catch the mist, catch the myth
Catch the mystery, catch the drift.

The world is, the world is,
Love and life are deep,
Maybe as his eyes are wide.

Todays Tom Sawyer,
He gets high on you,
And the space he invades
He gets by on you.

No, his mind is not for rent
To any God or government.
Always hopeful, yet discontent,
He knows changes arent permanent,
But change is.

And what you say about his company
Is what you say about society.
Catch the witness, catch the wit,
Catch the spirit, catch the spit.

The world is, the world is,
Love and life are deep,
Maybe as his skies are wide.

Exit the warrior,
Todays Tom Sawyer,
He gets high on you,
And the energy you trade,
He gets right on to the friction of the day.

--Rush, Tom Sawyer

Once again, my youngest son is showing his own sense of style. I don't know how he came across this hat, but it looks pretty damn good on him. At first, I thought about the Indiana Jones movies, but then Rush's old song about today's Tom Sawyer came to mind, and it seemed to fit his personality much better, except for the notion that he might accept change as a permanent phenomonon--that doesn't fit at all.



T. had a difficult weekend at home. His obsession with elevators and airplanes led to a major behavioral meltdown at a shopping mall in Metairie, LA. Surprisingly, he was very happy when we went straight home after we dragged him kicking and screaming from the mall, and he didn't ask for elevators or airplanes again. Later, we went to the Mississippi Gulf Coast. T. insisted on going to the beach adjacent to the Pass Christian yacht club and shrimp boat harbor. We used to go to that strip of beach because it had a bathroom pavilion and a McDonald's across the street. Both the pavilion and the McDonald's were destroyed by Hurricane Katrina, and neither has been rebuilt. On Friday, for the first time ever, T. insisted that he was going to walk along the harbor's concrete seawall. Unfortunately, the seawall too was damaged by Katrina, and I thought it unsafe for him to walk on it. Also, building contractors were on-site yesterday, rebuilding structures that were flattened by the storm. Again, he had to be dragged back to the car kicking and screaming.

I felt terrible for T. over the weekend. He is rapidly entering puberty, so his hormones are wreaking all kinds of havok. The OCD component of his autism seems to have intensified. Moreover, he seems to be wanting to drop his obsessions in favor of other activities, but can't quite seem to do so. Fortunately, it will be warm enough to put up our backyard swimming pool before his next visit home.



T. is learning to write his name again. When he was 4 or 5, he was able to write his name and write some numbers. We got very excited and bought an easel that I set up on a Friday afternoon. He woke up on Saturday morning and had completely lost his ability to write anything. T. has a seizure disorder--one that is so mild the best course of treatment is to just watch it instead of medicating--and we suspect that he had a seizure that Friday night several years ago. Around one-third of children with autism also have epilepsy; I really don't know how the two are connected. T. is just starting to regain his writing skills. In this photo, he has drawn an elevator with a stick figure of himself riding on it. I almost cried when I saw him writing his letters.