The Brown Knowser

When you get a phone call from your doctor—not the receptionist, but from your actual doctor—it can catch you off-guard. When your doctor calls you on a Saturday, to tell you about the results of your tests, it's not unusual to get a little tense. It couldn't be good news, could it? Surely, good news could wait until Monday. I have a great doctor, who left no stone un-turned when I had abdominal issues earlier this year. She ordered ultrasound tests, a CT scan, an MRI, and a colonoscopy. She wanted to make sure that I didn't have cancer or some other serious ailment. I had also complained to her, when we first met at the end of December (after I decided to change doctors), that I have problems sleeping: that test is coming in a couple of weeks. So, when my doctor called me with the results of my recent MRI and colonoscopy, I was initially expecting the news to be bad, but instead, she gave me some good news. Two pieces of good news, in fact. And one piece of n...

No one likes a showoff. In a city of rivers, a canal, and lakes, it's not surprising to see someone out on the waterways, enjoying themselves. I was reminded of the day, in March, when my family and I hiked up Camelback Mountain, in Phoenix, Arizona : it was a blazing-hot, dry day, and we struggled to get to the summit. The temperature and altitude change—not to mention that we were out of shape—made the climb a brutal task. When we reached the peak, we saw a young, athletically built young man, perched in a handstand on a rock, performing vertical pushups. I was exhausted just watching him. No one likes a showoff, mister. Late yesterday afternoon, I was in Old Ottawa South, walking along the northern shore of the Rideau River, near Billings Bridge, with a dear-old friend, Becky, taking photos and admiring the beauty of flowers, ducks, and geese, when we saw a young woman navigating the gentle current on a paddle board. We didn't think anything of it until the woman...

My training for the Rideau Lakes Cycle Tour is going well, almost completely according to plan. Almost. There was that Tuesday-evening group ride, where I developed a cramp in my stomach, almost 5 kilometres into the ride, and I had to turn back. I did manage to recover, after a rest, and I made it to an evening spin class, at the Minto Recreation Complex. I got another 23 kms in, which gave me about 32 for that evening. Only 8 km or so short of what I would have completed, had I been able to ride with the group. I also missed a couple of long rides, on Sundays, because spring was still deciding whether she wanted to make an appearance or not, and winter stepped in to cover for her. I did go to spin classes, but it's not the same. Last Sunday, DW and I threw our bikes into the back of the SUV and headed to Billings Bridge, to join a group ride for the Ottawa Bicycle Club's second annual picnic, in Manotick. When we set out from the house, DW and I had decided to ride ...

I was pretty sure that after my medical procedure * , yesterday, I wouldn't have the mental energy to write a blog post for today. I was right. But I think that even if I were up to the task, I would have wanted to share this music video, anyway. When I was in San Diego, in March, I chatted with my favourite actress/model/artist, Kate Kelton, through Twitter . When she read that I was close to Los Angeles, she invited me to one of her art exhibits, but sadly—very sadly—I was unable to make it. During our chat, she let me know that she was getting ready to do a project with none other than music legend, Eric Clapton. She told me that they were going to be shooting a music video together, and I was very excited for her. I expected that Kate would be seen in various shots in the video, as part of a story line. What I didn't expect was that the video would also be very much about her, working on her art. The song, "Can't Let You Do It," is great (after all...

It was the noise that got to me. The buzzing, the rat-a-tat. The alarm pitch that made me think that something was wrong. I could deal with the confined space: the ceiling of the chamber wasn't as close to me as I feared it was. I could exhale powerfully without having my breath come back at me. It was lit, and warm. And I could close my eyes and imagine that I was in an open space. I don't like confined spaces. I don't like being packed in a large crowd. I become stressed, agitated. My heart rate climbs and I have a desire to flee. I've panicked at concerts, moved to the back of the pack, sought higher ground. My worst case of claustrophobia hit when I was trapped in an elevator. The compartment was between the two floors and I couldn't open the doors above or below. My friend, who was also claustrophobic, boosted me so that I could try to open the escape port on the ceiling. It was locked. All the while, people came and went, but when they heard our ne...

At a screen, I sit and stare. I think and think, and despair. Life, it fall s in disrepair. I have lost my mojo. T opics, themes, I have many Yet put in words, I can't find any Even if, in rhyme, if only I could find my mojo. Worried 'bout my health, which fails me Stressing over work that ails me Restless nights that creep like snails b e Finding me my mojo. I need something good and new, Something pure and something true. 'Fore this doldrum makes me blue, Forever takes my mojo.   (A poet, as you can see, I am not.) In the past, writing has come naturally to me. I'm not a great writer, but I have been able to string more than two words together to convey a thought or an image. Lately, it's been a challenge. For as long as I can remember, I've been able to tell stories, whether by fiction or by stretching the truth, to telling it like it is. From early memories of elementary school, where my creative writing had me reading storie...

Two teens in my house Both girls, rife with attitude Now, my grey hair grows. Happy Birthday to my 13-year-old of many names.

This year is going quickly. We're just wrapping up the nineteenth week of 2016. Spring seems to finally be here, with the tulips, the daffodils, and the trees beginning to open their leaves. Every week, with the exception of one, when I was out of the country, I have made my way to Hog's Back Falls, for my photo project. I have seen the snow and ice slowly melt, the water gush in flooding amounts, and now that the Rideau Canal is filled, the water seems to trickle over the falls. I've shot lots of slow shutter speeds, to soften the water and show the motion, but I've also stopped the water in its tracks. I've shot in the morning, in the afternoon, and after sunset. The different light can make the rocks change dramatically. On week 19, I came to the falls twice: once, in the late afternoon; and again, the next evening, at sunset. I chose the latter visit for the project (I only use one shot for each week). You can see the project in my Flickr album . O...

Canadians have never shied away from giving to the needy. We are, by and large, a fairly socialist society that believes that when we help each other, we all win. Canadians have proven that in an undeniable way, over the past week, in their generosity towards the unfortunate folks in Fort McMurray , Alberta. The fire that swept through the town and is still burning through the province had forced more than 80,000 people from their homes. Many of those people will return to find their home, their neighbourhood, gone. But their Canadian brothers and sisters have opened doors to them, provided food and shelter, and have donated to the United Way and Red Cross. The Canadian government, in turn, has offered to match donations, dollar-for-dollar, to help the town rebuild and help those Albertans get their lives back to normal. My wife and I gave to the Red Cross , as we've given any time there are people in need. We went to their Web site, and donated $150. Not a huge donation, but...

Last week, I came to the cold realization that I'm just four short years away from some senior discounts. As my work colleagues reminded me, and they're all older than me, that some banks waive service fees for customers who reach the age of 55. The news that I could be eligible for such discounts in a few years hit me like a ton of bricks. This weekend, I posted a photo of me and my mother as a celebratory reminder of Mother's Day. I was barely a year old: my mother, only 23. We're both bundled against the winter cold as we stood on the edge of the St-Lawrence River, in Montreal, smiling despite the weather. As I looked at that picture that I love so much, I realized that the photograph is now more than 50 years old. I am now only 11 years younger than my dad was when he died. Granted, I'm healthier than he was at my age (for the most part), but with impending tests coming in the next couple of weeks, the results could change that assumption. I'm nine y...

It's the third time I have said it: this time, I mean it. That's the second time that I've said I mean it. Last year, I completed the Rideau Lakes Cycle Tour for the first time. Granted that last year, I didn't attempt the ride all the way from Algonquin College, in Ottawa, to Queen's University, in Kingston, and back. Instead, I started in Perth and cycled only 100 kilometres, to Kingston, and back, which cut about 150 kms from the classic route. I had signed up  for the full route, and trained hard. I might have even completed that route, except that a few days before the ride, I fell off my bike and fractured my wrist. My right wrist, which is more important than the left: with it, I control more gears and I use to apply the rear brakes. When I fractured my wrist, my doctor told me that I shouldn't ride at all. The vibration over that many kilometres would be hard on the wrist, would cause me a lot of pain. He was right on that count: I felt ever...

For a place where I spent almost an hour and literally took hundreds of shots, it seem ed a shame to display only one photograph. True, for the most part, I had set my camera on a tripod and had only changed the shot by zooming in and out, between 10mm and 20mm. There's not a lot of room for creativity there. But for each composition that I made, as the sun headed for the horizon, I captured five shots, bracketed, with EVs at +2, +1, 0, –1, and –2. With those five shots, I produced a single image. In post production, I didn't merge all five photos with all of the images t hat I produced . Sometimes, I used only three or four shots; other times, I used only one. I have them saved to a repository, but I doubt that they w ill ever see the light of day again. After all, Hor seshoe Bend is only one subject, where the only changes c o me with the waxing and waning light. I posted a couple of the photos, last month, for another Photo Friday . A friend of mine, Cesar, l...