tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11593153200720537682024-02-19T10:11:04.281-07:00Craig DeckerCraighttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07153034199654977175noreply@blogger.comBlogger11125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1159315320072053768.post-60971380210961163862008-05-29T01:19:00.002-06:002008-05-29T01:22:38.070-06:00My first shot at a short story<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"><b style=""><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Distractions</span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center">By Craig Decker<br /><b style=""><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><o:p></o:p></span></b></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style=""> </span>The explosion sent the terrified woman flying into a pile of rubble.<span style=""> </span>Flames began licking at the walls, and from the smoke a she heard someone say her name.<span style=""> </span>The woman scrambled for the door like a trapped mouse.<span style=""> </span>She couldn’t open it.<span style=""> </span>She screamed out for help. <span style=""> </span>Out of the darkness she him staring at her from across the room.<span style=""> </span>His eyes flickered orange and red as they reflected the leaping flames.<span style=""> </span>The maniac stepped forward and showed his teeth in a deformed, sadistic smile.<span style=""> </span>In his right hand he gripped a chain saw.<span style=""> </span>In one swift motion, the machine growled to life.<span style=""> </span><span style=""> </span>The screaming roar of the chainsaw ripped the air, hungry. The woman shrieked and blood splattered across the walls as the chainsaw shredded her body.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style=""> </span>Ben looked away from the television screen and began to breathe again.<span style=""> </span>The long, hot hours of the journey had filled the bus with stale air and body odor so thick he could cut it.<span style=""> </span>As his eyes adjusted to the darkness again, he took inventory of the situation.<span style=""> </span>Down the aisle several dozen faces were illuminated with a comical mixture of wide-eyed fascination and disgust carefully deciphered the Spanish subtitles.<span style=""> </span>The line of small, flashing televisions hanging from the ceiling of the bus swayed in unison as the old Argentine tour bus sped down a dark canyon road.<span style=""> </span>The dim yellow reading light shone done on his open scriptures, deserted midsentence.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style=""> </span>Ben felt his face flush.<span style=""> </span>He reached instinctively for<span style=""> </span>the black name tag that lay over his heart, and cradled it in his hand, fingers caressing the badge, feeling the cut grooves of two inscribed names -- his own, and the name, ”Jesucristo.”<span style=""> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style=""> </span>He sighed.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style=""> </span>This wasn’t good.<span style=""> </span>As a missionary, he had promised to live as a disciple of Christ so that he could help people to change their lives, and that included avoiding filth and violence.<span style=""> </span>Memories from the day washed over his mind like cool water.<span style=""> </span>He had been working with prisoners. <span style=""> </span>He reminded them to fill their lives with good, pure things, and they would be filled with peace and power to truly change.<span style=""> </span>And it was true.<span style=""> </span>He had felt it.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style=""> </span><span style=""> </span>Why had he watched the movie for so long when I knew it was the opposite of everything he stood for? How long had it been? Half an hour.<span style=""> </span>His eyes seemed to have a will of their own, and had been drawn into the movie like a moth seduced into the flame of a burning candle, coming to a startlingly painful understanding of reality a moment too late. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style=""> </span>Another string of vulgarities resounded through the dimly lit bus, and he glanced up curiously in time to see the subtitles dancing merrily across the bottom of the screen.<span style=""> </span>Ben chuckled.<span style=""> </span>The translation was never right.<span style=""> </span>The Spanish subtitles were completely inaccurate.<span style=""> </span>Of all the passengers, he alone could fully appreciate the colorful dialogue. <span style=""> </span>The movie progressed in a slow crescendo of vulgarity until the screaming chainsaw ripped apart another woman and the killer raped his bloody victim.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style=""> </span>A white-hot flash of light tore Ben’s mind.<span style=""> </span>He blinked reality back into existence.<span style=""> </span>Why had he l watched again?<span style=""> </span>He squeezed his eyes closed, trying to rid his mind of the images he had just seen.<span style=""> </span>It was no use.<span style=""> </span>They played out again under his eyelids.<span style=""> </span>He leaned forward and rested his head on his fists.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">“Okay.” He said aloud to himself, trying to gain some sense of dignity.<span style=""> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">The word disappeared into the air. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">“Okay,” he said again.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">He had to ignore the movie. <span style=""> </span>He looked down and studied the dirty black floor.<span style=""> </span>Not very exciting.<span style=""> </span>He carefully turned his head to look out the window.<span style=""> </span>A massive black void stared back at him.<span style=""> </span>His traveling companion dozed quietly below the window.<span style=""> </span>He envied his astonishing ability to stay asleep despite the noise and movement of the bus.<span style=""> </span>A distant reflection on the window caught his attention.<span style=""> </span>What was it?<span style=""> </span>He curiously studied the glowing image for a few moments, and then jumped as he realized that he had been watching the reflection of the movie.<span style=""> </span>He slowly closed his eyes in a desperate effort to think of something besides the movie, but<span style=""> </span>the images of carnage flooded his mind. <span style=""> </span>He urgently searched for a safe place to look.<span style=""> </span>His eyes were pulled to the screen almost magnetically. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Earlier that day he promised a struggling man that there was no temptation that he couldn't overcome.<span style=""> </span>Now those words echoed in his mind, mocking him.<span style=""> </span>There had to be a solution.<span style=""> </span>While thought about it, his eyes drifted back to the movie again.<span style=""> </span>He leaned back into the orange and blue overstuffed seat that held him prisoner, defeated.<span style=""> </span>Almost as an afterthought, he sighed again.<span style=""> </span>It was a soft prayer for divine intervention. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style=""> </span><i style="">Doughnuts</i>…<span style=""> </span>The word wandered into his mind. <span style=""> </span><i style="">Doughnuts</i>.<span style=""> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style=""> </span>That afternoon he had bought a dozen hot, glazed doughnuts at a little tourist shop.<span style=""> </span>Doughnuts were a rare American delicacy in Argentina.<span style=""> </span>Their chewy warmth and the sweet glaze melting in his mouth was like seeing an old friend.<span style=""> </span>He had eaten until the glazed sugar stuck to his hands, lips, and chin, and his stomach bulged. <span style=""> </span>The remaining doughnuts were carefully placed in a brown paper sack to take on the long trip.<span style=""> </span>He pulled the sack out from under his seat and looked inside.<span style=""> </span>There were a few left.<span style=""> </span>He took one from the sack and bit into it.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Ben casually began watching the movie again as he chewed. <span style=""> </span>Ahead of him and across the aisle a young boy was playing with an action figure of a super hero.<span style=""> </span>He was completely indifferent to the screens flooding the aisle with pale light and the roar of the chainsaw.<span style=""> </span>He looked at the boy, then back to the movie.<span style=""> </span><span style=""> </span>The boy caught his glance, and looked back.<span style=""> </span>Ben looked back down at the boy.<span style=""> </span>He wasn’t moving. <span style=""> </span><span style=""> </span>He was staring at the doughnut, his mouth slightly ajar.<span style=""> </span>Ben offered it to him, and he took it eagerly.<span style=""> </span>As he shoved it into his mouth, Ben turned back to the movie.<span style=""> </span>He couldn't stop. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"><i style=""><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">“Vos sos Americano?”</span></i><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"> asked the boy.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">“Yeah, I’m American,” Ben turned back to the boy.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">“<i style="">Que copado!” he said, Che, Vos queres ser mi amigo</i>?”<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">“Do I want to be your friend? Sure, kid.”<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">“<i style="">Estas mirando la pelicula?”</i><o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">“Yeah, I’m watching it, but I don’t like it.”<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">“A mi no me gusta tampoco. E<i style="">s muy aburrido</i>.” <span style=""> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">He smiled and laughed at the irony.<span style=""> </span>The boy laughed too, not knowing why.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style=""> </span>“You’re right.<span style=""> </span>It<i style=""> is</i> boring.”<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"><i style=""><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">“Vos queres escuchar un chiste?” </span></i><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style=""> </span>The boy’s eyes shone. <i style="">“wanna’ hear a joke</i>?”<span style=""> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style=""> </span>“Sure,”Ben said.<span style=""> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style=""> </span>He took another doughnut from the sack and gave it to the boy.<span style=""> </span>Ben listened to his joke, then told him one of his own.<span style=""> </span>They laughed until the other passengers bombarded them with “shhhh’s” of annoyance—to which they chuckled defiantly.<span style=""> </span><span style=""> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">They cleaned out the sack and licked off their glazed fingers.<span style=""> </span>Ben glanced at the seething television screen.<span style=""> </span>Suddenly it was all that the boy had said – boring.<span style=""> </span>It was hollow and ugly.<span style=""> </span>His sigh of relief made the boy pause in the middle of his newest story.<span style=""> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">“thank you,” Ben whispered.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">“<i style="">Como?”</i> <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">“Nothing.” Ben smiled and nodded for him to continue.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style=""> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>Craighttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07153034199654977175noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1159315320072053768.post-45928543253323049402008-05-29T01:06:00.003-06:002008-05-29T01:19:10.916-06:00My original poetry- What do you think?<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; line-height: normal;"><b style=""><span style="">Pedestrian<o:p></o:p></span></b></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; line-height: normal;"><u><span style=""><o:p><span style="text-decoration: none;"> </span></o:p></span></u></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; line-height: normal;"><span style=""><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; line-height: normal;"><span style="">I take a step into the street <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; line-height: normal;"><span style="">as cars whiz by.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; line-height: normal;"><span style="">And I should look before I cross<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; line-height: normal;"><span style="">but I’m not going to <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; line-height: normal;"><span style="">until after I step.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; line-height: normal;"><span style=""><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; line-height: normal;"><span style=""><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; line-height: normal;"><span style="">Then<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; line-height: normal;"><span style="">at my steely glare<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; line-height: normal;"><span style="">the cars slow<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; line-height: normal;"><span style="">and stop at my feet<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; line-height: normal;"><span style="">like trembling iron monsters<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; line-height: normal;"><span style="">forced to make<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; line-height: normal;"><span style="">an embarrassing submission.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; line-height: normal;"><span style=""><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; line-height: normal;"><span style=""><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; line-height: normal;"><span style="">Five deliberate steps<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; line-height: normal;"><span style="">and pause<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; line-height: normal;"><span style="">at the double yellow lines.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; line-height: normal;"><span style=""><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; line-height: normal;"><span style=""><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; line-height: normal;"><span style="">A thundering red mountain of existence<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; line-height: normal;"><span style="">accelerates<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; line-height: normal;"><span style="">and passes inches before my face<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; line-height: normal;"><span style=""><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; line-height: normal;"><span style=""><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; line-height: normal;"><span style="">If I reach out<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; line-height: normal;"><span style="">I could caress death <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; line-height: normal;"><span style="">with my fingertips.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; line-height: normal;"><span style=""><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; line-height: normal;"><span style=""><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; line-height: normal;"><span style="">I step again<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; line-height: normal;"><span style="">before the thing has passed.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; line-height: normal;"><span style="">and a new line of cars<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; line-height: normal;"><span style="">cowers at my presence.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; line-height: normal;"><span style=""><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; line-height: normal;"><span style=""><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; line-height: normal;"><span style="">I shudder, <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; line-height: normal;"><span style="">and revel in primal ecstasy<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; line-height: normal;"><span style="">like my ancestors<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; line-height: normal;"><span style="">after killing<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; line-height: normal;"><span style="">the mammoth.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; line-height: normal;"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; line-height: normal;"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; line-height: normal;">-Craig Decker ‘08</p><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; line-height: normal;"> </p><p class="MsoNormal"><b style=""><span style="line-height: 115%;font-family:";font-size:14;" >Ode to a Grilled-Cheese Sandwich<o:p></o:p></span></b></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="line-height: 115%;font-family:";font-size:14;" ><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="line-height: 115%;font-family:";font-size:14;" ><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="line-height: 115%;font-family:";font-size:14;" >As cold rain pours outside<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="line-height: 115%;font-family:";font-size:14;" >kindergarten to college<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="line-height: 115%;font-family:";font-size:14;" >You fill my soul<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="line-height: 115%;font-family:";font-size:14;" >with warm cheesy goodness.<o:p></o:p></span></p><br /><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; line-height: normal;"><br /></p><br /><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; line-height: normal;"><br /></p><br /><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; line-height: normal;"><br /></p><br /><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; line-height: normal;"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; line-height: normal;"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; line-height: normal;"> </p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"><span style="line-height: 115%;font-family:";font-size:14;" >Lint<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"><span style="line-height: 115%;font-family:";font-size:14;" >Pocket Lint<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"><span style="line-height: 115%;font-family:";font-size:14;" >Blissful, Heavenly Fluff<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"><span style="line-height: 115%;font-family:";font-size:14;" >Comforting, Soft, and Gray<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"><span style="line-height: 115%;font-family:";font-size:14;" >How Did You Get<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"><span style="line-height: 115%;font-family:";font-size:14;" >Way Down Inside<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"><span style="line-height: 115%;font-family:";font-size:14;" >My Pocket,<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"><span style="line-height: 115%;font-family:";font-size:14;" >Lint?<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; line-height: normal;"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; line-height: normal;"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; line-height: normal;"><o:p> </o:p></p>Craighttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07153034199654977175noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1159315320072053768.post-55528219465551428132008-05-23T21:44:00.002-06:002008-05-23T21:50:21.497-06:00Gotta try thisI found a fascinating game on onemorelevel.com it's called "<a href="http://www.onemorelevel.com/game/magic_pen">Magic pen</a>" and actually requires some creative thinking and engineering skills to get through. (watch out! It is addicting.) This is a game that I would let my kids play if I had kids!Craighttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07153034199654977175noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1159315320072053768.post-2925198368120432452008-05-19T23:56:00.002-06:002008-05-20T00:07:40.167-06:00Spring singingI just got a copy of last year's Spring University Choir performance. The music was incredible and affected me profoundly.<br />Here are a few of my favorites:<br /><a href="http://www.box.net/shared/puwqhus0so">Praised be the Lord</a><br /><a href="http://www.box.net/shared/c17p3iog8o">My Song in the Night</a><br /><a href="http://www.box.net/shared/y9oohha80g">Sure on this Shining Night</a><br /><a href="http://www.box.net/shared/dhybcug4kg">Now Glad of Heart</a><br /><a href="http://www.box.net/shared/zihtox0ggs">Letatus Sum</a>Craighttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07153034199654977175noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1159315320072053768.post-69402783110708180252008-04-27T07:30:00.001-06:002008-04-27T07:30:45.994-06:00One handed tricks: Opening Bottles<div xmlns='http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml'><p><object height='350' width='425'><param value='http://youtube.com/v/N4e1CFBfiBY' name='movie'/><embed height='350' width='425' type='application/x-shockwave-flash' src='http://youtube.com/v/N4e1CFBfiBY'/></object></p></div>Craighttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07153034199654977175noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1159315320072053768.post-66405272651873345282008-04-25T06:29:00.001-06:002008-04-25T06:29:19.424-06:00One handed typing options.<div xmlns='http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml'><p><object height='350' width='425'><param value='http://youtube.com/v/Hn08u10eU7Q' name='movie'/><embed height='350' width='425' type='application/x-shockwave-flash' src='http://youtube.com/v/Hn08u10eU7Q'/></object></p></div>Craighttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07153034199654977175noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1159315320072053768.post-83366091474083688402008-04-25T06:28:00.001-06:002008-04-25T06:28:38.914-06:007 lessons from a firework (written 2-07)I haven’t always been left handed. In fact, I still get weirded out when I look down at the stub where my right hand used to be! Christmas vacation this year took me on a road trip to Mexico. Question: Where can you buy better quality fireworks than in Mexico? (Answer: anywhere.) On New Year’s Eve I lit a harmless looking firework at midnight, and a moment later I looked down and realized that my hand took the early bus back to heaven!<br /><br />All joking aside, I have learned some powerful lessons through that experience. (Surprisingly, most of them have very little to do with firework safety!) Although what occurred was tragic, I believe what I have learned has made me a better person and will continue to bless the lives of many individuals.<br /><br />1. Don’t buy fireworks in Mexico! <br /><br />2. There are some things in life that we simply cannot control. (If I hadn’t blown off my hand, some other poor person would have.) It’s okay. As we let go of those things quickly and completely, we become free.<br /><br />3. “Men are that they might have joy”! Life is good. Laughter heals. Life is funny. There are funny things that happen every day even in the worst of situations. Bad days make good stories. There is a time to laugh and a time to cry. It’s funny that laughter and tears come together so easily.<br /><br />4. The atonement of Christ brings peace and healing “that surpass all understanding”. We come to know ourselves and we come to know God through our trials. We are surrounded by miracles. When we trade self pity for humility, our eyes are opened to see them.<br /><br />5. There is so much life to live! Why waste time worrying and stressing about inconsequential things? Spend time doing what matters most—the things that bring the most light and joy to life. Enjoy the ride.<br /><br />6. Challenges make us stronger and better. With creativity and patience, we are capable of much more than we ever imagined. Our perspective determines our reality. (There is nothing that quite compares with the feeling of accomplishment gained from flossing with one hand for the first time!)<br /><br />7. We can always lift others, no matter how bad of a situation we are in. It is a divine gift. The only true and lasting joy comes from forgetting ourselves and lifting those around us through love and service.<br /><br />I would never wish another person to lose their hand. But I hope my experiences and lessons make a difference in your life. Wahoo for the resurrection!!Craighttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07153034199654977175noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1159315320072053768.post-39740907531220087682008-04-25T05:18:00.000-06:002008-04-25T06:23:42.181-06:00How I became one handed. (Including pictures)<p class="MsoNormal">January 1, 2007 12:01 a.m. (age 24)<span style=""> </span>A large Roman candle firework acquired in Tijuana approximately 3 days earlier malfunctioned and exploded in my right hand, effectively ruining a New Year's Eve party and blowing my hands to smithereens.<span style=""> </span>Approximately 3- half metacarpals remained attached to the<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6z68a_kxykqrWMrK2DuJFuGJCPy3Wc47eaPH5Bj6Gvyrj8gGScAw_0TaJhDLkXBsa7FPbdXPUmVjA6Giyp2gvOJsaV6gY1015IfUNN4iGCatx4-gjjs4NnmhCOah7ByTMszS_6YBeayY/s1600-h/IMG_0369.JPG"> </a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyqL8mqOBOamzoHqTENDUNGWiGrSi7xXLrSNqE0cB-Z4Dhoypfpsc2K3xAq7-tin-cW3VJ2aYrlKApBDyMxEnV-jkzbx2lkRaCUHw6Fk06L4UOUUbFajjsGDOHglkScXF1UYRYQeBGzFQ/s1600-h/n17826051_32160925_588.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyqL8mqOBOamzoHqTENDUNGWiGrSi7xXLrSNqE0cB-Z4Dhoypfpsc2K3xAq7-tin-cW3VJ2aYrlKApBDyMxEnV-jkzbx2lkRaCUHw6Fk06L4UOUUbFajjsGDOHglkScXF1UYRYQeBGzFQ/s320/n17826051_32160925_588.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5193152925696236946" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6z68a_kxykqrWMrK2DuJFuGJCPy3Wc47eaPH5Bj6Gvyrj8gGScAw_0TaJhDLkXBsa7FPbdXPUmVjA6Giyp2gvOJsaV6gY1015IfUNN4iGCatx4-gjjs4NnmhCOah7ByTMszS_6YBeayY/s1600-h/IMG_0369.JPG"> </a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6z68a_kxykqrWMrK2DuJFuGJCPy3Wc47eaPH5Bj6Gvyrj8gGScAw_0TaJhDLkXBsa7FPbdXPUmVjA6Giyp2gvOJsaV6gY1015IfUNN4iGCatx4-gjjs4NnmhCOah7ByTMszS_6YBeayY/s1600-h/IMG_0369.JPG"> </a><!--[if !supportLists]--><span style=""><span style="">1.</span></span> wrist bones.<span style=""> </span>(see attached photo if you have the stomach for it.)<span style=""> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal">When I looked down at my hand, it didn't seem real.<span style=""> </span>My hand felt tingly, but it certainly didn't feel like it looked.<span style=""> </span>I yelled out for someone to call 911, and upon realizing that my fingers were gone, asked my friends if they would look around to see if they could find them.<span style=""> </span>There is no way to ask this question without laughing.<span style=""> </span>It's just not a phrase that you ever expect to use in your lifetime.<span style=""> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style=""> </span>The adrenaline and shock were kind to me.<span style=""> </span>I didn't feel very much pain at all, and I found myself thinking extremely clearly.<span style=""> </span>I started asking specific people to do specific things.<span style=""> </span>We made a tourniquet out of the belt, made sure everyone else was alright, looked for fingers, called my parents, and had my friend start her car to take me to the ER.<span style=""> </span>Time seemed to slow down for me, and everything was clear.<span style=""> </span>I felt very levelheaded.</p> <p class="MsoNormal">Once we were in the ER, I was absolutely amazed at the raw inefficiency of the hospital.<span style=""> </span>After they made sure that I wasn't bleeding profusely, they gave me a Tylenol and had me fill out paperwork and wait for the next hour and a half.<span style=""> </span>I figured that the better it that I cooperated, the faster we would go, and the better chances of saving my hand we would have.</p> <p class="MsoNormal">The other effect of the adrenaline and shock were that I became much more funny than normal.<span style=""> </span>I was joking with my family and friends as well as the doctors and nurses from the moment we entered the hospital.<span style=""> </span>The medical report from the<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7PeD4yJz3uZ_p3GihN2PP8OVca9wCKf9bkLmN1tO8RK_-JeZqtQIjbtuaRExfbHR3DfZLYZd-O4O9tAEPSLT4ZEu6ttaA6wDvJHLwPmuUv5RFER0TVtgUnOM3tjfP27uRavU8tY2i9qs/s1600-h/IMG_0369.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7PeD4yJz3uZ_p3GihN2PP8OVca9wCKf9bkLmN1tO8RK_-JeZqtQIjbtuaRExfbHR3DfZLYZd-O4O9tAEPSLT4ZEu6ttaA6wDvJHLwPmuUv5RFER0TVtgUnOM3tjfP27uRavU8tY2i9qs/s320/IMG_0369.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5193152921401269634" border="0" /></a> ER actually says, “Mr. Decker is a very pleasant young man who has recently blown up his hand with a firework.<span style=""> </span>He appears fairly <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">atraumatic</span>,<span style=""> </span>considering the circumstances.”</p> <p class="MsoNormal">They eventually gave me a large dose of morphine, and offered me as much more as I wanted.<span style=""> </span>It was still painful, but less painful than a toothache I had earlier that month.<span style=""> </span>They told me that I didn't have to be brave, and I responded that I wasn't brave.<span style=""> </span>I eventually consented so they would stop bothering me!<span style=""> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal">I began trying to make sense of everything that had happened during a 45 minute ambulance ride to a larger hospital.<span style=""> </span>I kept on thinking, “things are really going to be different... but how?"<span style=""> </span>And the episode of “Ripley's believe it or not” with a guy called "Lobster Man" kept popping into my head.<span style=""> </span>After losing both his hands, he opted for a surgery or his forearms were each separated to make two large fingers on each arm.<span style=""> </span>Was I going to be a lobster Man?<span style=""> </span>I wasn't sure that I <i style="">wanted</i> to be a lobster man.<span style=""> </span>The morphine was definitely taking its effect.</p> <p class="MsoNormal">I met my parents at the larger hospital and after making sure I was okay, they asked if they could see my hand, which was covered by a towel at the time.<span style=""> </span>I didn't want to gross them out, but I think that it was important for them to see exactly how bad it was rather then to leave it up to their imaginations.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiO1y9v5Ejyz9P1Cw8OCqKO1uBzh8VHQ3yOIjSUeKfE2m_qr5hRPXMxuDJBO3RNf4ebcBrgAqHG4N91IQYJ9MvqiEbJZE551qdtii6bxCPKg5EvPLs9DsEc14s0oMrFXjGwl_zMEj3kJHg/s1600-h/101_4028.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiO1y9v5Ejyz9P1Cw8OCqKO1uBzh8VHQ3yOIjSUeKfE2m_qr5hRPXMxuDJBO3RNf4ebcBrgAqHG4N91IQYJ9MvqiEbJZE551qdtii6bxCPKg5EvPLs9DsEc14s0oMrFXjGwl_zMEj3kJHg/s320/101_4028.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5193152912811335026" border="0" /></a><span style=""> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal">They asked me if they should cancel my classes at college, (since they would be beginning in three days) and at that moment, something in my head clicked.<span style=""> </span>I made a spur of the moment decision that no matter what happened I would never let myself become a victim. “Of course not,” I responded and smiled. “Why would you cancel my classes?”<span style=""> </span>That was the best decision I've ever made in my life.<span style=""> </span>At that moment I gained an incredible sense of peace, and I knew that whether or not they could save my hand, that everything would be okay.</p> <p class="MsoNormal">After consulting briefly with the surgeon, they prepped me for surgery.<span style=""> </span>I was astounded that it had taken almost 6 hours before I was in the operating room, and annoyed that because it had taken so long, that I might lose more of my hand.</p> <p class="MsoNormal">When I woke up the next morning, I learned that the entire surgery had taken a mere 1 1/2 hours.<span style=""> </span>They had decided that the hand was not salvageable, but took extreme care to<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-IvMn_JjdaKHEfLFwgIf1pxvGsPj16HKp1XE0YU6X90atPs5ocWeyOoWpIGMQtCfib2zgJQvl8SO92RB1pfRH3chN1GYv7JPnS3zOZeC3X9WmC-72ZEYnUEhHIcip2XprTxSx-oyHCgY/s1600-h/hospital.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-IvMn_JjdaKHEfLFwgIf1pxvGsPj16HKp1XE0YU6X90atPs5ocWeyOoWpIGMQtCfib2zgJQvl8SO92RB1pfRH3chN1GYv7JPnS3zOZeC3X9WmC-72ZEYnUEhHIcip2XprTxSx-oyHCgY/s200/hospital.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5193148080973126994" border="0" /></a> reconstruct the residual limb as carefully as possible.<span style=""> </span>It's still felt as though my hand were attached to the end of my arm, and it was tingling all the time as though it were deeply asleep.</p> <p class="MsoNormal">I felt great, and wanted to leave that day, but they insisted that I stay for two more days to make sure that there were no complications.<span style=""> </span>I had friends and family visit me throughout the day and everyone was still laughing and joking.<span style=""> </span>My brother brought me a gift of <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">Handburger</span> helper, a golfer's glove, and left-handed scissors.<span style=""> </span>That night after visiting hours were over and I found myself alone,it hit me that my hand was really gone, and would be for the rest of my life.<span style=""> </span>I bawled like a baby for about five minutes to mourn my lost hand, then took a deep breath and laid back down to sleep.<span style=""> </span>For a second time, I felt that profound sense of peace… knowing that everything would be okay, and at this time it stayed.<span style=""> </span>That is the only time that I have ever cried about my hand.</p> <p class="MsoNormal">The next few days I found myself constantly surrounded by people that I loved.<span style=""> </span>Everyone who came into my hospital room left laughing.<span style=""> </span>I built my repertoire of one-handed jokes, and we<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmWR-KHeLRKpQ0HDl-BnjNKd4iTcTZxVg_sAyZfIat2yhEeaMiIRighdK7I-8VMN7hWMLvn2qdNGaHyLSnigxtBjVi-jFDse4lCAeoE3r0vRHeoNWUSJrM9041i-d4ekaMhSmZ0cIPTFg/s1600-h/n17826051_32103210_4204.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmWR-KHeLRKpQ0HDl-BnjNKd4iTcTZxVg_sAyZfIat2yhEeaMiIRighdK7I-8VMN7hWMLvn2qdNGaHyLSnigxtBjVi-jFDse4lCAeoE3r0vRHeoNWUSJrM9041i-d4ekaMhSmZ0cIPTFg/s200/n17826051_32103210_4204.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5193147960714042690" border="0" /></a> decided what cool attachments I should get.<span style=""> </span>The consensus was that a laser gun would be pretty neat.<span style=""> </span>They all complimented me on what a good attitude I had.<span style=""> </span>I am a believer in the power of God and the power of prayer.<span style=""> </span>I don't know how to describe it, but I knew that all of those people who had visited me and many others had been praying for me, and I felt physically, mentally, emotionally, and spiritually lifted up by those prayers.<span style=""> </span>I have never felt anything like it in my life.<span style=""> </span>It was a very real force.</p> <p class="MsoNormal">I was right-handed before my accident.<span style=""> </span>But I realized pretty quickly that I would have to<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWdUPjhMy6ISyQFm4T-I5rAF2H0JYMJl7O8OHMiBlDekQIHOS_-vdjq3F-5ySu136cSobgbzmfEnJdRh8ux7l1EaU6qlik8B5I59GC4wIPyuTtqgHOrRXMhcijP2wX_7NDwR6VHPsfcYs/s1600-h/repellling.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWdUPjhMy6ISyQFm4T-I5rAF2H0JYMJl7O8OHMiBlDekQIHOS_-vdjq3F-5ySu136cSobgbzmfEnJdRh8ux7l1EaU6qlik8B5I59GC4wIPyuTtqgHOrRXMhcijP2wX_7NDwR6VHPsfcYs/s320/repellling.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5193155343762824642" border="0" /></a> become ambidextrous… fast!<span style=""> </span>My junior year of college started the next day!<span style=""> </span>Writing was incredibly slow.<span style=""> </span>In some of my classes I arranged to have other people take notes for me, until I realized that when other people took notes that I never read them.<span style=""> </span>I forced myself to write as much as possible each day, and did exercises with a squishy ball to strengthen my fingers and hand.<span style=""> </span>I think that progress with my handwriting was approximately 1 year of elementary school per month.<span style=""> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Set in some ways I really enjoyed the challenge.<span style=""> </span>I enrolled in a beginning tennis course to help my coordination on my left side.<span style=""> </span>I sucked at it, but by the end of semester I was no longer the worst person in the class! Now, a year and a half later, I still throw like a pansy, but my handwriting is fast and mostly legible. <span style="font-family:Wingdings;"><span style="">J</span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal">My surgery was very straightforward.<span style=""> </span>Before the surgery, the surgeon discussed a few options<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQpm1EJw5nG-o28BWWYK6Dh1wneI9RPq1MvvGzJ_0BaJNlLpiu1JGdc2NlBAP289UNh3ikJ4UOFrQ0LNpG4R24s3-3tezTMsB9nWUFuTKuDilq_OqCDyyMIaL2eCrkO2tjsBNQ_WggbJM/s1600-h/IMG_0374.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 168px; height: 224px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQpm1EJw5nG-o28BWWYK6Dh1wneI9RPq1MvvGzJ_0BaJNlLpiu1JGdc2NlBAP289UNh3ikJ4UOFrQ0LNpG4R24s3-3tezTMsB9nWUFuTKuDilq_OqCDyyMIaL2eCrkO2tjsBNQ_WggbJM/s320/IMG_0374.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5193150730967948642" border="0" /></a> with me depending on what he found, but as an experienced hand surgeon I ultimately left the decision in his best judgment.<span style=""> </span>He told me about the option of keeping a small flap of skin or whatever fingers remained that might be partially functional or having an actual hand transplant, which has been done a few times.<span style=""> </span>He recommended against the hand transplant because of the very low success rate and complications for successful hand transplants including continual pain and/or lack of function and sensation.<span style=""> </span>The last option was to prepare the arm to receive a prosthetic device.<span style=""> </span>The hand was deemed <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">unsalvageable</span> by Dr. Alan <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">Groebs</span>, MD, reconstructive surgeon specializing in hands, and so they amputated the entire wrist so that a prosthetic device would fit.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style=""> </span>This one may surprise you.<span style=""> </span>Social hurdles.<span style=""> </span>I didn't really feel like there were very many social challenge is for me.<span style=""> </span>Three days after my accident I moved into a very social apartment complex and became known very quickly as “that guy who just blew his hand off”.<span style=""> </span>Everyone was curious about my story, and by this time I had an amazing repertoire of jokes.<span style=""> </span>I was an instant hit.<span style=""> </span>I'm just an average middle-class white guy, but after losing my hand, I became very recognizable.<span style=""> </span>I don't feel like people treat me any differently.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqkiytm7WcBVX3BiCFBNrRM-IpgWFCFRwNU76i1hp_rWeiuN4Dx80Zg6BMFVMD3HitUCO8N206YZ_ORsIamZCjQXvOtM0hgMWJP8fQ60bodSnU5NlKsQym3KqcMLbovRA3fHpSQFZcp2A/s1600-h/cool.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqkiytm7WcBVX3BiCFBNrRM-IpgWFCFRwNU76i1hp_rWeiuN4Dx80Zg6BMFVMD3HitUCO8N206YZ_ORsIamZCjQXvOtM0hgMWJP8fQ60bodSnU5NlKsQym3KqcMLbovRA3fHpSQFZcp2A/s320/cool.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5193152925696236962" border="0" /></a></p> <p class="MsoNormal">I discovered that things are only as awkward as you make them.<span style=""> </span>People were way cool about it when they realized that I was comfortable with myself.<span style=""> </span>It's like the fat comedian who tells fat jokes.<span style=""> </span>Since he's the first one to bring it up, suddenly it's no big deal.<span style=""> </span>Every once awhile I would catch people staring, but I don't blame them.<span style=""> </span>I found myself staring at my arm!<span style=""> </span>It's not something you see every day!<span style=""> </span>The funny thing is, more often than staring I would catch people intentionally looking anywhere but my arm. .. or they accidentally look at it, but then look back up at me embarrassed and sheepish.<span style=""> </span>It cracks me up every time.</p> <p class="MsoNormal">I actually enjoy the honesty of little kids the most.<span style=""> </span>They come right up to me and ask, “where's your hand?”<span style=""> </span>Sometimes I ask them to help me look for it!<span style=""> </span>Kids are genuinely as curious as anybody else, but are actually willing to ask.<span style=""> </span>When they find out the answer, they treat me like anyone else.<span style=""> </span>The funniest thing is when I catch little kids saying to their mom, “look! he doesn't have a hand”” where is it?” And the mom getting really embarrassed because she thinks I might have heard.<span style=""> </span>If the kids are staring at me without saying anything and their parents are looking, I'll open and close my hook or act like a pirate.<span style=""> </span>I get a kick out of seeing their eyes go really wide and then watching them pretend to have their own hook. </p> <p class="MsoNormal">On the day I got my first hook I had a big pirate party with everyone I knew.<span style=""> </span>If life gives you lemons, make lemonade.<span style=""> </span>If life gives you a hook, become a pirate enthusiast!<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXDrDuxBiulTQsyw5TdD7y_bu4oB-FU21qgJLGrgSpudw8tmJgVzhaRrFYdhrpkv91DtNEwJa0q5Uyt7mN1lhGF-P5qkis4Ia4qXYuJgOfT1zw4o-52UGYZ2A5CWhlbGTJ0WQcZ3AOoPg/s1600-h/pirate+party.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXDrDuxBiulTQsyw5TdD7y_bu4oB-FU21qgJLGrgSpudw8tmJgVzhaRrFYdhrpkv91DtNEwJa0q5Uyt7mN1lhGF-P5qkis4Ia4qXYuJgOfT1zw4o-52UGYZ2A5CWhlbGTJ0WQcZ3AOoPg/s320/pirate+party.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5193155343762824626" border="0" /></a></p> <p class="MsoNormal">I haven't noticed any difference in my dating life.<span style=""> </span>If anything, girls seem impressed by my attitude and are more eager to date me.<span style=""> </span>Seriously.<span style=""> </span>No complaints here.</p> <div style="text-align: left;"><br /><br /><br /></div>Craighttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07153034199654977175noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1159315320072053768.post-25626669778688430882008-04-22T00:02:00.001-06:002008-04-22T00:02:07.017-06:00How to open a can with one hand.<div xmlns='http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml'><p><object height='350' width='425'><param value='http://youtube.com/v/ma0vliJKC_0' name='movie'/><embed height='350' width='425' type='application/x-shockwave-flash' src='http://youtube.com/v/ma0vliJKC_0'/></object></p></div>Craighttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07153034199654977175noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1159315320072053768.post-83255935069931888792008-04-21T23:47:00.000-06:002008-04-22T00:02:09.555-06:00I have always been a fan of YouTube for source of funny videos. I have a collection of favorite videos that I am proud of. Recently I decided to post a few of my own videos. I decided to do a few videos on tips for being one-handed. A friend of mine in Pennsylvania who I met through YouTube, Sean (theguywiththehook), has a series of these instructional videos, and they were incredibly useful I first lost my hand!<br /><br /><a href="http://www.youtube.com/captaindanger384">http://www.youtube.com/captaindanger384</a>Craighttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07153034199654977175noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1159315320072053768.post-16174524337181486882008-04-19T14:10:00.000-06:002008-04-19T15:49:55.524-06:00This is who I am.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimmwlnmRKVfLJ4vTy_xkKbRX4AC2TbR29qwuSFnkB4WEqEs8o8S15aGDcCL7FGB0jhGvTgyocmpRrWuTCuGfR31jWiM3sgayt1ui_W-HD5cdvVaGnl623uFqmoH6548khmVoXCJXJXrCY/s1600-h/cool.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimmwlnmRKVfLJ4vTy_xkKbRX4AC2TbR29qwuSFnkB4WEqEs8o8S15aGDcCL7FGB0jhGvTgyocmpRrWuTCuGfR31jWiM3sgayt1ui_W-HD5cdvVaGnl623uFqmoH6548khmVoXCJXJXrCY/s400/cool.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5191051962977191730" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfafmnetrSVmMwiXSs9C_umzu4qSJyv7NzXu4JjReyogBFYvSr7VaPKohkDfmtCOVe3yVLyXM1QEqD-8hGs246sPpVgVWSX-C6DsBtafs5N53o0C9x9bLxmVT8R2MrTnVc8uGRn2byLMk/s1600-h/fighter.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfafmnetrSVmMwiXSs9C_umzu4qSJyv7NzXu4JjReyogBFYvSr7VaPKohkDfmtCOVe3yVLyXM1QEqD-8hGs246sPpVgVWSX-C6DsBtafs5N53o0C9x9bLxmVT8R2MrTnVc8uGRn2byLMk/s400/fighter.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5191051967272159042" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKdiWgyQZb9pmAqBcme-Ko0V9HqRfc8aJPDDkJLYn69xjpNSSgz_0s5BIUvSxC159Vplry4W98Djok2S_YDoMVvCqPfe6VwOEDj6aLmoaFeQp9gYQ_n1E7qKdsFZJUfOIXjTrZR7YcWc0/s1600-h/EFY.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKdiWgyQZb9pmAqBcme-Ko0V9HqRfc8aJPDDkJLYn69xjpNSSgz_0s5BIUvSxC159Vplry4W98Djok2S_YDoMVvCqPfe6VwOEDj6aLmoaFeQp9gYQ_n1E7qKdsFZJUfOIXjTrZR7YcWc0/s400/EFY.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5191051967272159058" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmVmQ5sgYl1BQgo_sp8i0B-hXfVWaKKnYn5Ncb1jv_VvHdpyjwtDWAq3G0L2bXCqiT3nzvWP6PvtzjWRHEo3JMKjt_X91l7DCNLlZnJyVODSB2DBYu30JL9osQHZBVCPUprczq5BxJpk8/s1600-h/pudding.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 262px; height: 221px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmVmQ5sgYl1BQgo_sp8i0B-hXfVWaKKnYn5Ncb1jv_VvHdpyjwtDWAq3G0L2bXCqiT3nzvWP6PvtzjWRHEo3JMKjt_X91l7DCNLlZnJyVODSB2DBYu30JL9osQHZBVCPUprczq5BxJpk8/s400/pudding.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5191075589592287138" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEJYpVsp3PuO083j5ErfPe3rcpgi3biQYJdH0eMA36VzS3qCO2yddZfZx0qMMI84-nR5cg0uNJzLMfwIm_gC7BBUVArF5s2ebRMIloU738ijgcR_I6qqGdo0fXyEXhAkR4zbsLz0ESn3Q/s1600-h/n17826051_33775456_2413.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 228px; height: 304px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEJYpVsp3PuO083j5ErfPe3rcpgi3biQYJdH0eMA36VzS3qCO2yddZfZx0qMMI84-nR5cg0uNJzLMfwIm_gC7BBUVArF5s2ebRMIloU738ijgcR_I6qqGdo0fXyEXhAkR4zbsLz0ESn3Q/s400/n17826051_33775456_2413.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5191052310869542786" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDbGSfIKMhHVB6vdgRyIkn7hi2J18KpgnxZGcJQfzoim6CAHG33WXUqZHqHKde2m6NsEZWmuAabfBtOHQlpwCsE1fSRc9rO3UUzkv8hYmfCoO7kFnrADHK_AVzQ-XUd4nR6vJT3eTxKnY/s1600-h/craignkev.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDbGSfIKMhHVB6vdgRyIkn7hi2J18KpgnxZGcJQfzoim6CAHG33WXUqZHqHKde2m6NsEZWmuAabfBtOHQlpwCsE1fSRc9rO3UUzkv8hYmfCoO7kFnrADHK_AVzQ-XUd4nR6vJT3eTxKnY/s400/craignkev.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5191051971567126386" border="0" /></a>Craighttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07153034199654977175noreply@blogger.com0