The Sound and the Worry

I watch Netflix a lot. My sister pays for the account, but I use it more often. But when she does watch, she gives me heck for it.

You see, I watch with closed captioning.

There are a few reasons for this. One of them is the auditory processing trouble when it's a BBC show and you're an American. Even though I can simulate the accent, I can't decipher it.

But with the action shows I like to see, I watch for something strange: the dialogue. After all, I do want to write novels for a living. The speech is what attracts my attention. And I literally have to endure the action.

I know what you're thinking. What in the world is enduring action? To put it simply, it's the exact same feeling as not knowing what is about to happen in life. I know for a fact that I'm not the only one who doesn't like that. This is, after all, a blog about autism. But here's where the experts are wrong: I mute episodes because my empathy is so great. I'm not just watching. I AM IN THE SHOW.

I don't watch action sequences. I memorize them with the show on mute. Even slight suspense means low or missing sound. I have the compulsion to remember every detail. I doubt I'll ever be in a planet-sized library being chased by microscopic flesh eaters, or next to a pool where a child was murdered with my best friend about to explode. But I can't be sure.

So I put the closed captioning on and mute the show. I get just as much out of it. Actually, I might get even more without my emotions interfering.

So go ahead and quiz me.

So go ahead and call me strange.

So go ahead, but I must warn you,

In my mind's an endless range.