I’d start repeating it over and over, and Mom would pop me in the backseat and drive me around until I fell asleep. After a while, she’d park and quietly carry me in and tuck me in bed. In time, I learned to say the words Mom and Dad, but talking really started with car. I’ve sometimes wondered if autistic kids are more comforted by a machine than by a human. My friend Temple Grandin certainly feels that way. She famously made a “squeeze machine” at college to rock and hold her tight. I did something similar as a child when I piled pillows all over me. In fact, I still do that! As an adult, I prefer the company of humans to a car ride, but if my mother’s memory is right, the opposite was true when I was one. I’ve always loved the gentle roll of a train, and nothing can beat a ride through the country in an old convertible Jaguar. When Cubby was born, I figured I should start him out the way my mother started me. When he got upset, if Mom wasn’t there to jolly him, we’d often go for a ride in the car.
