I last filed a report on my 14 year old boy, Matthew, in January and it’s already time for yet another touching portrait of father and son.

I always mention Matthew is autistic and I don’t divulge his condition to brand him as challenged. Rather, it’s to convey an astonishing truth: I’ve been privileged to know more than my fair share of remarkably bright “normal” people, but by far the most insightful interpretation of my behavior ever comes from a teenage boy with a neurological disorder.

Matthew doesn’t think like you or me or anybody you know or will likely ever meet.  A condition that allegedly handicaps him also makes him uniquely brilliant.

I could cite countless examples of his wit and wisdom but just consider this one: A few years ago Matthew’s big brother, my now 15 year old son Ethan asked, “Matthew, do you know who Jesus is?”  Matthew’s instantaneous reply: “Yeah, he’s the guy who ended B.C.”

Genius.

When I acquire a particularly goofy and totally unnecessary addition to my massive collection of oddities it is Matthew’s reaction that always interests me most.  Recently and for no defensible reason I bought a very large Indian style drum.  For the record I’d just like to state 1) I am not an Indian and 2) I do not play drums.

Here is a picture of the drum I bought.

After wrestling this Paul Bunyan of percussion into my house I covered it with a sheet and giddily greeted Matthew upon his arrival from school. If I had a tail, it would have been wagging.

“Matthew, exciting news!  I’ve bought something fantastic for my office.”

“Let the madness begin,” he replied acidly. “Is this going to be as good as the scrap metal alligator you bought for the garden?”

“You be the judge, buddy.  Follow me and check it out. Here we are. What do you think?”

“You’re showing me a sheet? Nice buy.”

“No, it’s what’s under the sheet.”

“So you’ve finally snapped and installed a small bathtub in your office?”

I whipped the sheet off and exclaimed, “Behold!”

“Yeah, wow, isn’t that great? A huge useless drum. Why?”

“Don’t you mean why not? You’re a drummer. Sit on the couch and play it, dude”.

He proceeded to strike the drum as slowly as humanly possible and in a voice dripping with scorn droned, “This is sooooo exciting.  I am having the best time evvvver.”

He paused for a beat to let that sink in and added, “Maybe later I’ll teach you about sarcasm.”

“C’mon, Matthew, it’s pretty cool.”

“In some ways, yes”, he admitted.

“In what ways?,” I asked.

“Let’s just leave it at ‘in some ways’,” he responded.

So what have we learned here today?  That the 14 year old autistic kid is far more clever, sensible and sane than his almost 66 year old father can ever hope to be. That’s what I learn every day.

Have we learned anything at all about Indian blankets?  Up until this moment, no, but that’s all going to be forgiven when you feast your eyes on this very unusual c.1900 Racine Woolen Mills banded pattern blanket from the Gary Asteak collection. A gigantic Indian drum roll, please!