Oh. My.

First, let me apologize for the lack of posting lately. Last weekend, I had tonsillitis, no heat, and my 39th birthday. Now I have my final class for my license starting. I am getting my feet back under me, though, worry not. I think my posting for the next week or two will be fairly limited.

A few weeks ago, I went to a campaign event for Terry McAuliffe. During the event, I asked a question about autism. The whole thing was a little weird. To make it even odder, it was documented by the New Republic. The article is quite humorous. When they checked the quote with me, I was sort of in disbelief. The end result, however, was more than I could imagine. I am going to have to Google the author, Eve Fairbanks. I really enjoyed her article.

Yes, having Terry McAuliffe babysit my kid would be a patently bad idea. Truly. I just think that people have a perception of what autism is based on Rainman on one end and the things Denis Leary put in his book on the other. Sometime, a little illustration in the form of an hour with him fosters a lot of understanding.

From Eve's article:

"There will be some reluctant nonbelievers along the way, of course. From Leesburg, McAuliffe drives on to another brewpub in Manassas, where his performance rates nearly as high as it had in Leesburg. The hiccup comes during the question-and-answer session, a potentially perilous period for McAuliffe, given his zealous devotion to chicken waste and highway lightbulb repair. As he wraps up one answer, a trembling mother thrusts a picture of her autistic son, Jimmy, into his face and asks when Virginia will cover autism on its state employee health plan. But soon, somehow, McAuliffe's answer circles around to the extra lanes he wants to build on U.S. Highway 58, which runs from Virginia Beach to the Cumberland Gap. "We've got to four-lane 58 the whole way!" he exclaims, rocking back and forth like Rain Man. The crowd is quiet at their tables, and the realization descends on McAuliffe that something is not quite right. He pauses and peers hard at the mother, Rachel Kirkland. "Your child should be covered," he says. "I apologize for that."

"The divorce rate for autism parents is 85 percent," says Kirkland, her voice breaking.

"Right," says McAuliffe and falls, briefly, silent.

But there's nothing in this world that can't be fixed, and when Kirkland darts out before the meet-and-greet is over, a young aide trots into the drenching rain to follow up. To help McAuliffe gain sensitivity on the autism question, Kirkland suggests he drop by her son's classroom, or even come to her house and babysit little Jimmy. The idea of Terry McAuliffe babysitting an autistic child seems a patently bad one. But, in keeping with his boss's limitless spirit, the aide replies that this is "not outside the realm of possibility.""