Listen.
I fully understand this is kind of nasty. The sound of nails being clipped is like nails on a chalkboard to me. When people do it at work (WHY??) I walk around to find the culprit and then judge them in my mind. Seriously.
Don't clip your nails at work. It's gross.
That said, I’ve had numerous requests to see how I do it. And I’m nothing if I don’t do whatever anyone tells me to do.
Enjoy the video!
Flossing is next.
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I’ve always loved playing the piano.
My two favorite pianists.
I took lessons for a little while when I was young and I took music theory in high school, but mostly I’m self-taught. As with most things I do one-handed, I just figured it out.
It’s always funny when people are listening to me play and then at some point realize I’m doing it with one hand. They get a quizzical look on their face and say, “Wait…how are you doing that??”
In late 2008 I broke my short arm. As I began to heal and the swelling started to go down, one of my greatest fears was that I wouldn’t be able to play the piano anymore. I remember going to my in-laws’ one day and trying to play. My arm was still swollen and I couldn’t hit one key at a time. I started to cry. I was mourning the loss of my ability to play piano…albeit prematurely. Eventually the swelling went down and I gained most of the mobility in my elbow back and my piano playing resumed. Talk about a joyful feeling!
I’ve always had fun making-up stupid songs, too. Ask my kids. Or my wife. Just don’t ask if they like it. With that in mind, I present to you the video of how I play piano one-handed!
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Last week our family went to Disney World.
It was awesome.
We rented a house with my wife’s family (10 adults, 7 kids) and hit four different parks. The kids were amazing, the skies were sunny and the Kingdom was magical. Besides seeing my wife weep with joy as she watched our daughters meet the real life princesses, my favorite moment came when my son overcame his fear of roller coasters.
Granted, I don’t know that Sam has ever even had an opportunity to ride a roller coaster, but when we suggested he go with us on Expedition Everest, that fear became real…real fast. While the ride was still theoretical, Sam convinced himself he’d love it, so we walked toward the mountain with our Fast Passes. As we neared, Sam pointed and said, “Dad, look at that mountain!”
"Oh, no."
“Yeah, man! THAT is the roller coaster!” I said.
“Oh…no,” Sam whispered. “I changed my mind.”
We got to the base and Sam read the sign. I asked him what he was most afraid of and he started rattling off everything on the sign. “Heights, far drops, speed, sudden turns…”
So, I started my convincing.
I told him roller coasters are made to scare you, so it’s ok to be scared, but that’s what’s fun! I told him I wouldn’t let anything bad happen to him and that I’d be right by his side the whole time…screaming like a girl. I told him I knew he could do it and he needed to believe he could, too. “Just keep telling yourself, ‘I can do it!’ over and over,” I said. And with that, we started up the mountain to the coaster.
Right before we got on, Sam looks up at me and says, “Dad, you know what I’ve been saying over and over in my head all the way up here? ‘I can do it.’ And I know I can!” I smiled and we piled in. Moments later we were hurtling through a mountain at breakneck speed, screaming all the way, hands high in the air! At one point the tracks appeared torn apart by a Yeti, the coaster stopped and began going backwards. As soon as we righted ourselves, it was time for the drop. Down the mountain we shot, stomachs in our throats…and loving it!
After the ride, Sam and his two cousins hooted and hollered, “THAT WAS AWESOME!” They loved it…thankfully. As we walked away, Sam said, “I faced my fear, and it was awesome!” I think he got that line from his cousin Noah, and I was so happy to hear him say it. He really did face his fear and I was so proud of him for doing so. And it paid off for him!
Sam
Facing our fears is difficult, but so often it leads to good things. Full disclosure: I’m terrible at facing my fears. Absolutely terrible. I think that’s why I was so proud of Sam. And inspired by him. I kept thinking about how he can use this experience when he comes up against other fears and how valuable it’ll be. Then I got to thinking, “Wait, how did I convince him to face his fears?” In this case, it was because I had faced the exact same fear…20-some years ago. I was terrified of roller coasters as a kid. Then, in junior high, our class got to go to Great America and all my friends were going on the American Eagle coaster. It was only the biggest, scariest, wood-iest of them all. But, I couldn’t chicken out. Ahh, peer pressure; the ultimate motivation to face your fears. Well, I got on the ride and ended-up loving it. From that day forward, I’d ride anything. Even if it scared me. I knew from experience that it’d be great. That’s why I was able to speak so confidently and persuasively to Sam.
Now I just need to learn how to speak in such a way to myself.
What’s your roller coaster?
Ok, so I realize the title is a bit of a misnomer.
I’ve never played tennis competitively, but I’m not bad. Hopefully this video helps you see how it can be done with one hand.
See. One-handed.
Alternate titles I considered:
How To Jump Over A Tennis Net Without Dying One-Handed
How To Sweat Profusely One-Handed
How To Be Dad-of-the-Year One-Handed
Enjoy!
March Madness is in full swing, so I thought, “Why not post a video of how I shoot a basketball?”
I’ve always loved playing basketball. You can see the joy on my face in this video from 1987. (I think this was the only time I ever played basketball with my prosthetic arm.) There’s just something about that “swish” as the ball goes through the net. Even better if the net is made out of chain. I’ve never played organized basketball, either for school or a rec league, but I’ve always played with my friends. Mostly we play 21 and I hold my own. Usually.
I remember once when I lived in Minnesota, I went to a park to play with my roommate. He was a black dude from Milwaukee who gave himself tattoos while we watched TV at home. I was the only white kid at the park. I called next game over and over, but they never let me in, so finally I just marched my little self out onto center court and stood there defiantly. “I’VE. GOT. NEXT,” I said sternly. A few of them laughed, but they could sense I was serious and they let me pick my team. I was so amped-up, I was flying around the court, making shots left and right. At the end of the game, they all gave “the white boy” his props…and I promptly left while I was on-top. Genius move, I think.
It was only on my way home that I thought, “Not only am I white, but I have one arm.” Not a single one of them mentioned it and Jehmel, my roommate, never said it was a factor, but part of me wonders.
Regardless, that day I proved I could hang with the big boys.
Literally. Every one of them was about a foot taller and at least 100 pounds heavier than I was.
(My only regret in the video below is that I didn’t block one of Sam’s shots and scream in his face. That would have been epic.)
Checkout Kevin Laue as an example of a guy with one hand who’s really good at basketball!
He’s got almost a foot and a half on me. Lucky.
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I’m a big fan of learning from experts.
So, when my friend Travis told me that Kyle Maynard was coming to Wisconsin this weekend, I got really excited.
I used my trick and emailed Kyle earlier this week and when he responded, I was over the moon!
After a rough start (car trouble), I made the two hour trek to Tomah from Madison and arrived just as Kyle’s book-signing session was starting.
Me and Kyle
After meeting Kyle briefly, I hungout with his best friend and manager, Joey, for the next hour and a half. Joey is great. It was a blast to connect with him and pick his brain about speaking and publishing.
The hosts of the event invited me to stay for dinner and afterwards we all headed over to the high school to watch Kyle’s presentation. There were probably a thousand people there! And Kyle’s talk was fantastic. Poignant, hilarious at times, powerful…he has a gift for challenging and encouraging others. If you haven’t read his book, No Excuses, you really should. He wrote it when he was 19 and it’s perfect for kids and adults alike. His “No Excuses” message is still prevalent, but as he said, “If you come across someone who’s positive 100% of the time…RUN.” He realizes that we all have those days and even those periods in our life when excuses creep in, but how do we respond to those times? Do we let them keep us down or do we get back up, dust ourselves off and move forward? He challenged us to get rid of one excuse last night. We can all handle that. So, what’s one excuse that is keeping you from what you want to be doing? From your dreams?
Get rid of that excuse.
He also spoke about finding your purpose, your “why.” When we know our why, there’s no how we can’t overcome.
It was so fun to watch all the people talk to Kyle after. Seeing their smiles and tears and hearing them laugh; clearly that’s what it’s all about for Kyle. Hearing their stories.
Yesterday was an experience I won’t soon forget. Kyle and Joey were both gracious and kind and I count myself lucky to have gotten the chance to get to know them. And to top it all off, Kyle agreed to do a little interview for LOH! “Joey, can I borrow you for a minute?” I asked, needing a camerman. Yeah, I probably could have phrased that differently. Oh, well. Enjoy!
Make sure you go to Kyle’s website and checkout the videos of him being super famous. You can also follow him on Twitter. And the documentary about his quest to fight MMA, A Fighting Chance, is on Hulu (naughty language alert).
Emily Rapp is really smart.
When you read her memoir, Poster Child: A Memoir,
Poster Child is the story of a girl becoming a woman. It’s the tale of a young woman struggling to find her identity, while thinking she’s got it figured out already. It’s complex and interesting and it’s good.
Emily was born with a condition which required multiple surgeries that ultimately left her missing most of her left leg. In Poster Child, Emily recounts her experiences with surgery and the subsequent trips to various prosthetists. She was the March of Dimes poster child (thus the title) and learned how to play the part of the happy overcomer, while inside she struggled. Her disability drove her to overachieve; to prove to everybody that she could not only do things, but she could be the best. Nothing less than perfection was acceptable.
Emily’s vulnerability in Poster Child is admirable. And thorough. At times it makes you cringe and others, cry.
And while I recommend Poster Child, I have to admit that I connected with it less than I thought I would. Her writing style is certainly more literary than I’ve been reading lately, which made it a bit more challenging to digest. But, the main difference, I think, was that her perspective was heavily feminine. Which is great, don’t get me wrong! Emily struggled with body image issues and admits, “I may never fully understand or even accept the body I live in and with…” which is something I’ve never struggled with. At least in regards to my arm. I’m aware enough to know that many, if not most, women struggle with this, though. Magazines, TV, movies, the internet…the media has been telling women what they should look like forever. So, Emily’s struggle is not unique to limb different women, though it adds an unchangeable element that is impossible to ignore. “It never occurred to me that the expectations I had about people’s perceptions of me might be myths and that other people might have issues with their bodies, too. I believed my deformity trumped everybody else’s physical preoccupations. Narcissistically, I thought, What could possibly be worse than a missing leg? and organized my thoughts around this assumption,” she says.
Emily also seemed angry about her difference much of the time, which is a normal and common reaction, though one I’ve never had. She felt like she wasn’t whole, which makes sense because she lost part of her physical body. I am now the way I was born, so this is the wholeness I’ve always felt. I’m seeing more and more the differences between congenital amputees and others. There is a real sense of loss that happens when our bodies change in such a traumatic way.
And while there are differences, Emily and I certainly share some commonalities. Our pursuit of perfection has, at times, paralyzed us both. Learning to accept ourselves and not to base our worth on our accomplishments is something all of us need to learn; some of us more than others. Her fear of failure is also familiar to me. Those of us with limb differences have this innate pressure that we must succeed or suffer the pity we so despise. For me, this is often left simmering in my subconscious, though I know it’s there.
I also appreciated Emily’s candor and honesty about her struggles as related to her faith. Her insights into the theology of disability and her transparency regarding her time away from God are agonizingly beautiful. I’m the associate pastor of my church and have a degree in Biblical studies but can tell you honestly, I have never thought about the theology of disability. Even when my psychology professor, Dr Goodpaster (the atheist), told me I should be mad at the God I so foolishly believed in because of how He made me. I’m so grateful to Emily for opening my eyes to an arena of theology that seems so obvious to me now, but that I’ve missed for years!
I hope to high Heaven that this doesn’t come off as sexist, but I highly recommend Poster Child to women, fully-limbed or not. Her insights into issues that women deal with more regularly than men are powerful. And everyone, men included, can learn from Emily’s vulnerability and resolve to learn about herself. Introspection and self-improvement are dangerous battlegrounds and Emily is a fabulous example for us in these regards.
(Be forewarned that Poster Child is for adult readers only. Adult language and sexual themes are pervasive throughout. Right now Amazon has copies for $5.98 each…go buy one: Poster Child: A Memoir
It’s official…you can now buy a LOH mug!
And tons of other stuff.
I’m excited to announce the opening of the Living One-Handed CaféPress shop!
I have to be honest…I barely know what I’m doing on CaféPress, so if you have any tips, let me know. It seems like it’s easy enough, though, and looks like it should work great.
Here’s the other thing I’m feeling right now: I’m selling a bunch of stuff with a caricature of myself on it. Hello?? That’s weird. But, the reason I’m doing it is because I believe in the mission of LOH and the more people that find out about it, the better.
Thanks so much to everyone who has supported LOH already and has shared the love! You are amazing.
So, head over to the shop and take a look around. Take advantage of any deals going on right now. And feel free to share the love!
There’s nothing like seeing a grown man jump rope.
You’re welcome.
In elementary school I participated in “Jumprope for Life” and I had no problems. Kids are creative.
Enjoy the video and I’d love to see YOURS! Post them on the Facebook page!
I’ve always loved playing sports.
Especially football.
Not me, but still one-handed.
I found out recently that playing football is one of the only times my friends think about me having one arm. One said, “I remember playing football one time and not even thinking about you having one hand until you made this amazing catch going deep and stopping in my tracks like, ‘Wait, how the heck did he just do that?'” My friend Steve said, “The only time I am really conscious of the fact that you only have one arm is when we are playing football and I am the quarter back. I know that if I throw the ball towards your left shoulder, it’s going to be extremely difficult for you to catch the ball! So, I am forced to think a little bit more when I am throwing to you, and I really try to throw to your right side.”
I’ll be making many more videos of me playing sports, I’m sure, but for now here’s one of me playing catch with my son. I figure it’s better just to see it done than to have me try to explain it.
