The Brown Knowser

I have to admit that I was reluctant to playing the game. For weeks, I saw the block patterns appearing in my Twitter feed and had no idea what was going on. In fact, I saw my peeps tweeting their Wordle results without even being curious. How my brain works. At last, I Googled the word that accompanied the patterns and realized it was an online game, but I still wasn't interested. As soon as I knew what it was, I closed down that Google browser tab and continued with my day. When DW became hooked, she asked me if I played. "No, I've seen what it is but I'm not really interested." My dismissive comment surprised DW, as she knew that I loved puzzles and word games. I don't keep many games on my smartphone. At times, I have none. But I do like to play Sudoku and I've recently downloaded one of those puzzles, where you have a bunch of test tubes that have layers of various colours, and you have to sort each colour into their own tube by pouring them onto mat...

The following passage is a rough-draft excerpt from my upcoming novel,  Gyeosunim , the sequel to  Songsaengnim: A Korea Diary . Be warned that there are spoilers and you may be missing some context. Passages are in no particular order and are subject to change. Photo credit: lanaclassic.com Though I couldn’t see through the sack, I felt we were moving too fast for the Wartburg. The small, four-door automobile was the last thing I saw as the man slipped the bag over my head and shoved me into the back seat. My hands remained cuffed and I knew it would be a mistake to try to escape, or worse, fight my abductors. No doubt, someone, if not all of the men were armed. No words were spoken. All I could hear were the high revs of the small engine, the squealing of tires as we negotiated streets, and the occasional horn as the driver warned pedestrians and other cars to get out of our way. I remained still, focusing on my breathing and maintaining my balance as I fought to remain s...

In 1974, my Uncle Don (my step-father's sister's then-husband) was into photography. I didn't know him very well, as he and Leslie lived in Beacon Hill, in Ottawa's east end, while we lived in the Borden Farm area of Parkwood Hills, to the southwest end of the city. We seemed to only get together when we visited at my step-father's parent's house (also in Parkwood Hills-Borden Farm) or we entertained them at our house, and at that point, the grownups didn't interact very much with the kids. All I really knew about Don Gagnon was that he was a firefighter for the city. I learned about his interest in photography when my folks packed my younger sister Jen and me up, and we drove out to Beacon Hill for a visit (my older sister, Holly, had other plans that day). Before we left the house, my father (as I've called him for decades now) took the time to blow-dry my hair, which was usually all over the place. He told us that we had to look our best because Unc...

The more this pandemic drags on, the less I want to go outside. Saturday morning. It also doesn't help that the temperature in Ottawa's January doesn't entice me to spend a lot of time in the great outdoors. I just don't like being too cold. Ottawa is the coldest capital city at this time of year, though, according to Google, Ottawa is the seventh coldest capital in the world. But that accounts for the average temperature throughout the year. For years, when Ottawa has plunged into a deep freeze, I've compared temperatures at the same time in other capital cities, and Ottawa always has a colder temperature. We get colder than Siberia, colder than Moscow, colder than the Scandinavian countries. And this week, we've had a nasty cold snap that has made it downright unpleasant to be outdoors. You really have to be prepared if you're going to be outside at this time of year. Despite the frigid temperatures, I decided to suit up, grab some camera and video gear...

First, I'd like to thank all of you. Next, I'd like to thank you again. Finally, in case you didn't know, I'm grateful for all of you. Thank you! I know that 500,000 views of a blog isn't a lot for many people, some of which have been running for less time than The Brown Knowser . Nevertheless, half a million is a lot for me, who wasn't sure that anybody would ever read my blog. This is a big milestone for me, and I have you to thank. That's it. That's the post. It's all about you.

The following passage is a rough-draft excerpt from my upcoming novel,  Gyeosunim , the sequel to  Songsaengnim: A Korea Diary . Be warned that there are spoilers and you may be missing some context. Passages are in no particular order and are subject to change. June 5, 1998 “Budweiser, han byeong, chuseyo .” I was going to regret this, tomorrow, I told myself. I had already consumed three bottles of makgeolli and two quarts of OB Lager, and was feeling drunk. Not raging, fall-down drunk, but certainly feeling near-invincible. I certainly didn’t need more beer. But Pappy’s was serving American beer and, though it wasn’t great beer, it was better than anything the Koreans had to offer. We were out in full force. Raymond, Ashley, Russell, Cathy, and Nelson, as well as a couple of other ex-pats, Tina May and Mike Benton. I had met Mike last year at a poker game with Brad. Mike was from Toronto and was in his third year in Chŏnju. He taught at a couple of hagwons but when the...

A couple of years ago, for a Throwback Thursday post, I had found a photo of myself, ready to head off for my Grade 12 graduation ceremony. It was a night to celebrate and say farewell to friends who were heading off to college or university, or who were leaving school to start a full-time job. Other friends at the party, like me, would return to high school in the fall, to complete Grade 13. In that Throwback Thursday post, I described my outfit: a navy suit. I loved that suit and would continue to wear it for years to come, at special occasions. Only, I didn't wear that suit for my Grade 12 grad. I wouldn't have that suit for nearly a year later, when I wore it to my Grade 13 grad. Besides the difference in suits for the two graduation celebrations I attended, there were differences in those evenings. In Grade 13, I joined three other friends in a limousine that we rented, when we rode around the city in luxury. Our driver would pull over, every once in a while, to refill ...

The last time that I was in Scotland, in real life, was in 2010, when I went with my best buddy, Stu, to find Roland Axam's home and to do some research for my novel, Gyeosunim . Man... to think I've been working on the sequel to Songsaengnim: A Korea Diary for nearly 12 years is depressing. Then again, I hadn't yet finished Songsaengnim and that trip really helped me put the final details on it. That novel took me a decade to complete. I'm a procrastinator extraordinaire and a very slow writer. Last year, I took a virtual journey and made my way from Land's End, in the Cornwall region of England, to the northern tip of mainland Scotland by cycling, walking, and kayaking in Ontario, and plugging my distances in to The Conqueror Virtual Challenges app . I've spoken about this app at length over 2021 and hope I haven't bored you. Last Thursday, I finally wrapped up a nearly 3,670-kilometre virtual journey along America's famous Route 66 . By working out ...

A very wise man once told me, "Don't imagine whether you can live the rest of your life with someone; think about whether you could live the rest of your life without them." It's very easy to see someone around you all the time. But to imagine that person as not a part of your life gives you insight into just how much you value them. We've been together for nearly 33 years and I can clearly see her with me for many more. But I could never imagine her not in my life. At the very least, that life would be miserable. Happy Birthday to DW.

The following passage is a rough-draft excerpt from my upcoming novel, Gyeosunim , the sequel to Songsaengnim: A Korea Diary . Be warned that there are spoilers and you may be missing some context. Passages are in no particular order and are subject to change. Friday, June 5, 1998 I was already drunk when we arrived. I didn’t need any more alcohol, but it was a Friday and this was our thing. Raymond and I left the university together, deciding to split a taxi back to our apartment building. Typically, I would have left the campus alone, taking a taxi to Eun-joon’s apartment, for our private lesson, but because this was the Memorial Day weekend, Eun-joon and his family were heading to Cheju, to visit his parents and siblings. I had no plans until later this evening, when Ray and I would meet with the rest of the teachers, likely heading out to TwoBeOne. “Hang on a second,” Raymond said, as we passed a corn dog stand, “I’m starving. I need one of these.” This particular stand, along...

I lost a friend to alcohol. And when I think of him, I can't think of very many times when we didn't get together over a few drinks. His funniest moments were when he had had several drinks in him. Usually, beer. By the time anyone realized he had a drinking problem, it was too late to save his marriage. Despite counselling, despite losing his marriage, despite the pleas from his two wonderful daughters, despite a few visits to the hospital for alcohol poisoning, my friend couldn't get sober. He died, alone, on the Thanksgiving weekend of 2015. When he didn't show up at his wife's house, where she was hosting a dinner to which he had been invited, his wife walked a few doors down to where he was living, to see what was keeping him, only to find him no longer living. I heard the horrible news that evening and I was shaken. Such a good guy—smart, funny, a gentle soul—who loved his kids more than anything, and yet couldn't get that monkey off his back. I awoke...

During the pandemic, I've spent more than my fair share of time in front of the television, binge-watching movies and shows through the myriad streaming services that DW and I picked up over the nearly two years of being homebodies. I've looked on social media to see what shows are trending and have even taken up some of the recommendations that Netflix has offered (even though the vast majority of Netflix recommendations are as far from my tastes as is the very end of this pandemic). One of the first series that DW and I started watching was the British show "Detectorists," which follows two friends, Lance and Andy, who share the hobby of metal detection and search the fields in their town, hoping to find a cache of hidden treasure. It's a brilliant show. Well-written, brilliantly performed by a cracking cast, "Detectorists" is heart-warming. DW and I enjoyed it so much that we started re-watching, from the beginning, shortly after we finished the last ...

Last Thursday, as I finished a pint of a sweet, chocolate-raspberry stout, it occurred to me that I couldn't remember the last day that I hadn't had an alcoholic beverage, and that gave me pause. Was it sometime before DW and I had gone to Cuba ? In 2019, when DW and I had celebrated our twenty-fifth wedding anniversary in Mexico , I decided that, just for fun, I would count how many margaritas I would drink over the week that we were on the Mayan Riviera. I had 48. Don't judge me. The perfect Cubata. In Cuba, I decided that I would count every alcoholic drink that I consumed. All of the beer, wine, Cuba Libres, Cubatas, margaritas, piña coladas, and lemon-lime slushies with rum. I had 64. I said don't judge me. When DW and I returned home, we had 2.4 litres of dark rum in tow. And because we were still on vacation until January 4, we spared no time in cracking the bottles open. Wait a second... I now remember the last day that I had gone without a drink. It was F...