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You should probably know that I'm only writing this column because the story I'm about to tell has a happy ending. Here's how my November ended.

First, I'd like to point out that some pregnant women snore. I'm not talking about the typical snoring you're used to hearing or the cartoon snoring of the Three Stooges or Popeye, I'm talking about deep, rumbling snores that send neighborhood dogs into frenzies for fear of coming earthquakes. This happened to my wife, Tieraney, so I'd taken to occasionally sleeping downstairs on the couch.

On Saturday, November 29th, I'd done just that. I awoke down there about 6 a.m. and thought I'd better go let the dog, Gelert, out of the bedroom so that she wouldn't wake up Tieraney. Imagine my surprise upon entering the room to find my dog sleeping soundly but my wife in the throws of a violent seizure.

Now, this would cause people to act many different ways. The thought that crossed my mind was this; "That can't be good." Seizures are never pleasant to watch, but even less pleasant when the woman having it is nine months pregnant.

When I tell this story to people, they asked if I was scared. Honestly? No. I was too stupid to be. I didn't panic and I didn't worry that anyone's life was in danger. For the next couple of hours, the only thought that crossed my mind was, "What do I do next?" That's it. What's the next step I have to take to make sure everything turns out okay, here. Roll Tieraney onto her side. Clear away the bile from her breathing passage. Don't stick anything into her mouth. Try to get her attention. Call 911.

To expedite the point of this article, after another seizure in the ambulance and an emergency C-section at Akron General, young Sophie Hiner was yanked into our world. She's fine, Tieraney's fine, and Gelert's fine. I'm pretty sure I'm fine, too. After the whole ordeal was over, I received plenty of praise from the hospital staff and our families for handling the situation as I did. No big deal, I thought, I really didn't do all that much. I was assured, however, that many people would've freaked out and blown it.

But that got me to thinking. If my handling of the situation was impressive, then why was I able to perform that way? What in my past provided me the skills I need to stay calm under pressure? To remove myself from a hot situation and look at it logically. To think clearly and make the right choices? I'm a web designer, for crying-out-loud. I was an English major. I played no sports beyond junior high basketball and I only spent one year in Air Force ROTC at college. Where could I have possibly acquired the skills necessary to do what I did that cold and snowy Saturday morning?

The answer? Dig Dug.

Well, okay, video games in general, but Dig Dug was the last video game I'd played before all of this happened. Or was it Baldurs Gate on the Game Cube? Or maybe even Burning Monkey Casino? No, we'll stick with Dig Dug. Twas Dig Dug saved my baby.

"But Kirk," you say, "that's absurd. How could a 8-bit cartoon character with a helmet and an air pump have possibly saved your baby?" Well, see, that's what computer games do. Just shy of 100% of them are all about forcing you to think quickly in pressure situations. I don't care if you're playing a first-person shooter, a sports game or Tetris, they all ask you to do things you couldn't possibly do in real life, to do them quickly and efficiently, and to sometimes do so despite the knowledge that there's no way you can possibly win.

When I'm playing computer games, I'm using my puzzle solving skills. How do I get that door open? How do I kill that many Nazis? How can I reach that ledge? It's a nonstop question and answer session. This was the exact same thought process I had when I first found Tieraney in her seizure...or, in Dig Dug terminology, "double pumped and ready to explode." How can I minimize the seizure. How do I make sure she can breathe okay? How do I see if this has affected the baby? Questions. Answers. Questions. Answers. Boom. Boom. Boom. Line 'em up, I'll shoot 'em down. No time to be scared, there are problems to be solved.

"But Kirk," you continue, "maybe you already had it in you." Ah, thank you for making my point for me. See, my claim that Dig Dug saved my baby is no more absurd than when people claim that computer games lead teenagers and adults to violence. That playing Doom causes people to kill others in real life. That it desensitizes them. If that's the case, then perhaps it's the same desensitization that helped me remain calm that morning. If negative gaming aspects can have a negative impact on the gamers, then is it so absurd that the positive aspects would have positive effects on gamers?

You know, as I think about it, ineffectual Senators, oblivious religious nuts and lazy parents have it easy because they get to blame a lot of stuff on video games. Whenever something goes wrong, they can blame it on the Playstation 2 or on the Macintosh, if they so desire. I can't do that. If I screw up a website or miss a deadline, I can't say, "Well, I was playing Unreal Tournament last night, so that's the cause of all those typos. Sorry." Nope, I have to be held accountable for my own actions (or inactions).

And have you noticed that when video games can't be factored into a murder or other crime, then, quite often, no one gets blamed? How about that John Allen Muhammad guy, the convicted beltway sniper. Boy, can you imagine if they'd found a GameBoy Advance in his car or found that he'd ordered Rainbow Six from Aspyr? Washington would've been up in arms! But no. Where did he get his killing experience and weapons training? A little thing called the U.S. Army. And yet, oddly, there's not a lot of finger pointing here. So, violent video games turn people into killers, but actually being trained on real weapons and ordered to kill people doesn't turn people into killers. As those anti-cigarette commercials say, "Welcome to Crazyworld."

Now, am I saying that the Army's to blame for John Allen Muhammad's actions? No. That would be absurd, if you will. Obviously, many, many people have come out of the U.S. military and haven't shot any civilians. Applelinks' Bill Stiteler, who's as likely to climb the bell tower as anyone, won't even hold a gun despite serving in the National Guard. Nope, Muhammad was screwed up on his own...just like anyone who plays a video game and then acts it out in real life is screwed up on his own well before the video game came into play.

So, I guess I can't really claim that Dig Dug saved my baby. That's probably for the best, as the last thing I need is for Dig Dug to hold that over my head. " Hey, Kirk, can you loan me $250? You know, it's just that I saved your wife and child, is all." On the contrary, maybe it's because I like to think quickly, because I like to be under pressure, because I like to solve problems that I play computer games. Who knows? All that matters to me right now is that Tieraney, Gelert and the littlest Hiner, Sophie, are all doing great.

Rest assured, though; as soon as she's old enough to hold a joystick, I'll be teaching Sophie my strategies for Dig Dug. Have to get that girl prepared for the pressures of life.