The Brown Knowser

"I'm sorry, professional cameras are not allowed at the show." "Define professional," I said, holding my Nikon D80 with an 18-55mm kit lens mounted on it. "This camera is hardly professional. My wife's point-and-shoot has a greater range than this lens." The man at the door, who took my ticket, looked at the camera again. "I suppose it's okay," he said as he waived me through. Once we were comfortable in our seats, I reached into my inside jacket pocket and retrieved my 70-300mm zoom lens and swapped it on the camera. Still far from a professional camera, but I now out-powered my wife's Canon PowerShot by a considerable amount. I didn't like to mislead the doorman to the Hawksley Workman concert, but I wanted photos. Not to sell but to enjoy and share with my friends. At last weekend's Ottawa Race Weekend, runners and spectators were treated to a free concert by Hawksley. Lori, after completing her 10K run ...

In the past, when I've hopped on my bike, I've headed toward the city, leaving my suburban neighbourhood for the heart of our nation's capital. My previous 50-kilometre circuit took me from Barrhaven to Prince of Wales, heading north to Hogs Back, Vincent Massey Park, Billings Bridge. I would follow the Rideau River as it took me through Vanier, New Edinburgh, and Rockliffe Park. I would head toward the Byward Market and cross into Québec by way of the Alexandra Bridge, and then come back to Ottawa over the Portage Bridge. I would follow the Ottawa River, to Lincoln Heights, before heading south, toward Woodroffe Avenue and back to my neighbourhood. It was a good ride. A mostly safe ride, where I could spend at least 75 percent of my time on pathways, off the roads, or on designated bicycle lanes. Over the weekend, with the National Capital Marathon, my route was blocked in a few places. Not wanting to find alternate pathways, I headed south. I had gone on some of t...

The woods are gone. Across from the football field and track, the trees grew in abundance. A few metres from the north end of the track is where the woods began. There wasn't much to it: a dense thicket of trees and shrubs, a chain-link fence, a creek, and then the upwards slope to Highway 5. There wasn't much to do in those woods. Sometimes, my friends—David, Sandra, and Christine—and I would go there. We would talk, make jokes. David, who was my friend despite joking at the fact that I was much shorter than the others, that my growth spurt was lagging, had a nickname for me: Ratchet. I liked to think that he called me that because it was a very handy tool to have in your toolbox, but I didn't like being thought of as a tool. But he wasn't calling me by the name of a tool. He was shortening what he was really saying: rat shit . We were good friends, Dave and I. The woods were where the four of us could get away from the other students in our year. The woods w...

As my big cycling weekend looms close (less than two weeks away), I think that I'm not ready, that I haven't trained enough. Which is probably true. But I'm in better shape than I was last year, when I wasn't riding much in the weeks that led to the Rideau Lakes Cycle Tour. Last year, I had a flat tire after an 86-kilometre trek and went almost two weeks before changing it. I also went to New York City two weeks before the ride, when I should have been dedicated to training. (I have absolutely no regrets about my NYC trip and would do it again if given the same circumstances.) This year, I have ridden more times than I had at this point last year. I also got in some cross-training, by swimming a few thousand meters. Yesterday, I rode a 52K loop that took me to North Gower, Kars, and Manotick. Less than an hour later, Lori and I took a white-water canoe training course and were out on the water for more than three hours. I have had plenty of exercise in the pas...

It's a magical hour. That moment, when the sun rises on the horizon and a fiery orange meets a cool blue. Too bad it happens just so damned early at this time of year. Happy Friday!

I get the Second Amendment to the American constitution. In 1791, just 15 years after Americans fought and gained independence, there was still some unrest. Skirmishes continued between the colonists and native groups. The west was wild. But that was 223 years ago. I understand someone wanting to be able to defend himself or herself. But I don't get that person feeling that he or she needs to tote a gun around, especially, an assault rifle. The recent controversy in the United States, where gun lovers in Texas are exercising their right to carry arms in the open by walking into family restaurants, seems stupid beyond any shred of belief. When restaurant chain, Chipotle , imposed a ban on firearms in its restaurants, along with coffee giant, Starbucks, and other chains like Costco and CVS, it seemed a no-brainer. I mean, who needs to be armed to the teeth when you're enjoying a meal, are shopping, or are sipping a Venti Tazo Chai? No one. I can't imagine a rational...

Is it just me, or does this ad from 1911 freak you out? I have a few issues with this ad, including the following: Who is this guy? Is he a soldier? A police officer? The milk man? The hat suggests that he is some person of authority. Is he using that authority against the unsuspecting woman? Do not tell her your intentions? If he's going to get that close, aren't his intentions obvious? Do not ask permission to kiss her? It sounds awfully forward and almost like the prelude to an assault. Looking dreamily into someone's eyes might come across like you're on drugs. It's best just to look happy. Sighing a couple of times might give the impression you're impatient. Or bored. What the? Placing fingers under her chin and tilting her head back? Is he giving her an exam or is he trying to be romantic? Is he looking for boogers up her nose? Do not hurry, 'cos, like, you've got nothing better to do. Is anybody willing to try these moves today? Go ...

It's Victoria Day in Canada, and because it's a holiday Monday I decided that I would catch up on some much-needed sleep. So I went to bed early and pulled myself out of bed this morning shortly after 10. Yeah, I'm a lazy bugger. So, while I get on with the rest of my day, pulling weeds from a much-neglected back yard, why not take some time and listen to some of the music I'll be playing on my smartphone. Brooklyn indie band, The National, is a band about which I know very little—I received a free music download from iTunes and heard them perform on CBC Radio's Q —but I hope to see when they play at Ottawa's Folk Festival . Here is the song that I have come to love, Bloodbuzz Ohio . Enjoy. Happy Monday!

Spring may have come late, but it's here in a big way. At the height of the Tulip Festival, flowers are at their peak. Go out there this weekend and enjoy the colours. Photo was post-processed with HDR, increased vibrancy, and a blur effect. Happy Friday!

It's that time of year again. For 10 years, my kids have been dancing with the Canadian School of Dance, and at the end of each year the school puts on a grand recital that lets the parents see the skills that the kids have learned over the past year. It's a big deal. The teachers put in a lot of creative work to choreograph dance numbers for all of the kids at the school. There are junior classes and senior classes, and therefore there are junior and senior shows, each of about 40 dance numbers. There are costumes to be made, props to be built, and rehearsals, all of which comes together over two evenings and one afternoon. Last night was my youngest's dress rehearsal. She is in the junior show, which will run for real on Friday evening and Saturday afternoon. Last evening, she was in her dress and makeup, and ran through her number as though she was performing for a full house. Only the teachers were in the audience. The lighting and props also run as though it we...

More photos on Flickr.

Some of you may be wondering how my 365 project is coming along. I am, too. Beginning on April 1 st , I had planned to start taking photographs of complete strangers and posting one face per day on my Flickr album . I was only going to take photos of those strangers with their consent: that is, I would approach the person, get him or her to pose for me, and snap the shot. I can do candid photography. This challenge was to have the person look straight into my lens. Perhaps, smile. I knew what I was going to say to the stranger as I approached her or him, with camera in hand: Hi, excuse me, my name is Ross Brown. I'm a local blogger and amateur photographer, and I'm working on a project: I'm compiling a series of photos of total strangers. Would it be okay if I took a photograph of you? No? I'm sorry to have bothered you. Have a nice day. Yes? Great! Let's get you to stand over here. I'm only going to shoot your head and shoulders. Just relax. Look at m...

I do believe this is a record: or nearly one. After seven days and six clues, the 36 th Where In Ottawa has been solved. I have to admit, I was pretty cryptic with my clues, and I shot a part of the location that many people may not have even noticed. Having visited this site many times in my life, I've never looked down. But, because it was raining when I visited the location for my photos, I looked down to avoid stepping in a puddle. And that's when I noticed the pattern in the concrete. Congratulations to Marc, who finally solved the location, which is the Commonwealth Air Forces Ottawa Memorial. Here are the clues, explained. Is it a bird? A plane?—as the monument honours the more than 800 men and women of the Commonwealth air forces who gave their lives in Canada, in the United States, and beyond, during the World War II, and who have no known grave.  Curtains, for some—this clue, in retrospect, sounds disrespectful, given the significance of the mem...

She named me after her favourite actor. She kept me fed, she kept me clean, she kept me safe. She taught me to speak and to walk. She showed me what was right and what was wrong, she saw me smile and laugh, and encouraged that behaviour. She taught me how to care for myself and to care for others. She taught me how to love. I was not a perfect child. I had some rough patches, as all kids do. But my mother stood by my side, supported me, and guided me to be the best person that I could be. My mother loves me, unconditionally, and no one— no one —has my back more. With Mother's Day around the corner, I want to let her know that I recognize all that she has done for me and continues to do for me. All that I have become, I am because I have a mother who has given me so much. Thanks, Mom. I love you. Have a Happy Mother's Day.

With only four weeks left until the Rideau Lakes Cycle Tour , in which I will finally achieve my goal of cycling from Ottawa to Kingson, and back, It is high time that I actually got on my bike and rode. This has not been a good spring. Colder-than-average temperatures kept snow on the ground well into April—April was the cruelest of months: when it wasn't bitterly cold or the snow wasn't covering the paths, it rained or was too windy to enjoy any ride. So, I've stayed indoors and trained on spin bikes, and swam at Plant and Walter Baker pools. I took my bike into a cycle shop in March, optimistically looking for a tuneup: a new chain and fresh brake pads. Everything tightened and aligned. My bike was ready for the roads long before the roads were ready for us. Until yesterday. On Wednesdays, I work from home. I use the time to get ahead on work, without the distraction of colleagues. I am often way more productive at home than I am in the office. Yesterday, as ...

I stole only once in my youth. It was a car. My mother worked as a cashier at the Steinberg grocery store at the intersection of Merivale and Meadowlands. Back then, in the late 1960s, Merivale Road was a simple, two-lane street: trees and houses lined the west side, across from the K-mart Plaza, which occupied the south-east corner of the intersection, and Steinberg's, which was neighbours to Miracle Mart and Pascal's (the hardware store where my dad picked up extra hours, in addition to his day job as a delivery driver, for POM Bakery and Coorsh), took the north-east corner of that intersection. As a young kid growing up in Parkwood Hills, it was nothing to cycle on Merivale Road—something that would put fear into parents these days. Meadowlands Drive, where it climbed up hill towards the Skyline neighbourhood, was also a narrow road, but cars would speed up and down the hill, making it more hazardous to cross than Merivale Road, unless you took the extra time and distanc...

All right: no more Mr. Nice Guy. The last two Where In Ottawa challenges were solved way too quickly. I'd like to think that you were quick because there were such nice giveaway prizes that you were diligent. I like that. But this month, I'm getting tough. This month, the winner of the challenge will receive an autographed paperback edition of my novel, Songsaengnim: A Korea Diary . Here are the rules of the challenge: If you were with me when I took the photo, you are ineligible to play. If you have won the challenge in the past, you may play but no reward other than bragging rights will be awarded. If you know the location of the photograph, you must leave your answer in the Comments section of this post. No tweets, e-mail messages, Facebook messages, or phone calls will be accepted. The first person to leave the correct answer in the Comments section wins the challenge. (Please make sure that if you leave a guess and use Anonymous , you must leave your full n...

The face of our city is changing. Nowhere is this fact more apparent than the area outside of the greenbelt, where urban sprawl is an understatement. In my neighbourhood—South Nepean—the amount of development has more than doubled in the 14 years that I've lived here. A couple of years ago, at a community meeting, my city councilor, Jan Harder, said that there isn't a single speck of land that isn't slated for development. But the neighbourhoods within the greenbelt are not exempt from expansion. Neighbourhoods such as Westboro and Hintonburg are seeing a growth spurt of their own: not growing outwards but growing upwards. Many condominiums are sprouting up and the faces of those areas are changing as old buildings are coming down to make way for new ones. Walking down Wellington Street last weekend, between Westboro and Hintonburg, I saw old structures slated for demolition and construction of new highrises. And it made me think that some of these old places should b...

When I set out to write a blog post such as the one I delivered this week at Blog Out Loud , I tend to massage the facts until what I have is a vivid story. What I end up with can be closer to fiction than reality. When I first published my post, If I Had a Time Machine , I wanted to tell a touching story of childhood, reflection, and loss. The idea of this story came to me when I was taking a power walk from my home to the Walter Baker Sports Centre, where there is also a branch of the Ottawa Public Library. I was returning some books, and rather than hopping in my car to drive the four-and-a-half kilometers that is required to travel by roads, I thought I would get some exercise by walking the 2.6-kilometre-long route of pathways and side streets. What was a seven-minute, lazy drive would be a 30-minute workout. Each way. I don't know what made me think of my friend, but I somehow got to thinking about my old Parkwood Hills neighbourhood and how the surrounding environment ...