Epic battle between dark and light

Sun-kissed brick
New York, NY
November 2013
Thematic. Dusk & dawn. Here.

I have an annoying habit when I travel for work. It involves taking hurried walks of the area to try and capture as much of the place as I can before I have to head back to the airport and fly home.

The compressed schedule of a vendor visit or conference often leaves so little free time that I literally walk and shoot as fast as I possibly can - otherwise I fear I won't remember ever having been here.

I filled my memory card a few years ago in this place - and found the familiar as well as the unfamiliar in the process - and when I realized where my hotel was going to be on this latest trip, I knew a followup walkabout was in order.

The challenge: I had maybe an hour of sunlight after the day's work was done before I lost it all. Now, I could still shoot in deep shadow and darkness - more on that front in a future entry - but I didn't want to miss out on the fully-lit moments, as well.

This particular shot highlights the last gasp battle between light and dark as the sun begins to slip beneath the horizon. Manhattan's combination of tall buildings and a tightly packed street grid makes for fascinating viewing as the shadows not-so-slowly march toward the sky and cut into the increasingly vibrant reflected glow of a defiant sun. It's a signature of this place, and I'm glad I headed out into the bitterly cold wind to take it all in.

Your turn: I know there are tons of stories buried in this delightful collision of urban rooftops. Pick one. One line. Go!

On happiness

"Happiness does not depend on what you have or who you are; it solely relies on what you think."
Buddha

So...over to you: what DO you think? How do you make/keep yourself happy?

Before she takes flight

The morning dawns bright
New York, NY
November 2013
For more Thematic dawn & dusk, please click here

I think we all need to slow down a little so we don't miss moments like this one, captured just outside the window of a run-down, blink-or-you-miss-it gate at New York's JFK airport. The windows were filthy, the seating modules were strewn haphazardly around the space and the shredded carpet somehow managed to wrap itself around my shoes.

Not really a place for inspiration, but I tried, anyway, because sometimes inspiration comes from the most unexpected places.

As it was, I stood in this sad example of 1970s-era, Soviet bloc-style architecture and waited a few minutes for the emerging sun to begin painting the sky. Suddenly, even this rather downtrodden aircraft in this rather downtrodden place came into its own.

Maybe there's a broader lesson in this for all of us. Maybe we need to skip a beat before we close the book on that first impression. On this morning, I waited it out and skipped that beat. I'm glad I did.

On contributing quietly

"The best portion of a good man's life. His little, nameless, unremembered acts of kindness and of love."
William Wordsworth

Half a lifetime ago

Just over six years ago, I took this picture of our then-seven-year-old son. Go ahead and follow the link, then pop back here.

I still remember thinking as I quietly tripped the shutter that day that he was so young, so seemingly little, so frozen in time. Now that I have the benefit of hindsight, I think I might have been slightly mistaken.

Today, I picked our now-13-year-old up from his after-school program. As we walked back to the car in the bitterly cold, dark grey murk of a late afternoon in Southern Ontario, he told me about his top-of-the-class exam result, the project he was working on, and the "little" kids he looked out for in the school yard at recess.

I'm not ashamed to admit it thrilled me to hear him walk me through a typically great day. Listening to his voice, I could almost hear him coming into his own as a confident, accomplished kid with a personality that seems to become more fully-formed with each passing day.

I remember thinking how old he seemed. As if he didn't need me to orchestrate every last activity for him anymore. And he doesn't: he's managed just fine to make his own friends, build his own world within his school and community, connect with people beyond the immediate reach of his mom and dad.

The seven-year-old who quietly played with a plastic elephant on the floor while he waited for his brother to finish his lesson was no more. Yet the 13-year-old who now stood so confidently beside me wouldn't be who he is if he hadn't played with that elephant all those years ago.

I high-fived him, and he hugged me, tightly, back. Although almost half a lifetime separated these two seemingly small, everyday moments, I realized that some things never change. Nor do I ever want them to.

Today's big news: hosting a Twitter chat

I'm doing something interesting today that I wanted y'all to know about: I'll be hosting a Twitter chat to explain the ins and outs of analytics.

The session is hosted by SAS Canada, a major vendor of business analytics and business intelligence (BI) software. One of the key reasons why I'm as excited as I am about this particular chat is that analytics (or big data) is one of those areas that most regular folks like us think will never apply to them. We assume big data is all about big companies, and little people like us - individuals, small businesses, even your mom - don't need to worry about it.

Au contraire.

We all need to learn more about analytics, why it matters to us, and how we can get ourselves up to speed. It isn't difficult to wrap yourself around the concept, but a little guidance never hurts.

That's what today is about. SAS Canada will have an expert on hand to answer the major questions folks might have, and I'm looking forward to a fast, fun and informative discussion.

The fun starts at noon (Eastern) today and will run for an hour. To participate, simply follow the #SASanalytics hashtag in Twitter (or click here.) Feel free to follow me on Twitter (@carmilevy) and the @SASCanada team, as well.

For more background on today's chat, click on the entry I wrote on the ITBusiness.ca blog - link here.

Look forward to seeing you there, and feel free to pass this along. The more the merrier.

Barking up the right tree

Old growth
London, ON
February 2012
Thematic. Dawn & Dusk. Here.

There's a creek near our house that runs through a wooded valley that, thanks to the absence of anything remotely urban or built, is one of the most peaceful stretches of land in a car-mad city that isn't much known for peaceful anything. Over the years, hikers have beaten a narrow, winding path through the trees, and if you follow it far enough, the sounds of traffic eventually fade to silence.

After an early thaw, I took a quiet walk alone in this place because I figured it was only a matter of time before winter sealed it back up again. I put on my boots, fastened my parka, slung the camera over my shoulder and headed out.

I don't remember what I saw as much as I do the feeling of isolation once I got deep into the valley. It felt good for the soul to leave the rush behind and immerse myself in the hush of this place. I stayed out until the late afternoon sun slowly gave way to deep shadow, then reluctantly headed home to warm up and clean the mud off my boots.

I came across this picture in my archives last week and realized it's been too long since I went on a walkabout. I really need to rectify that.

Your turn: Where do you go to get away from it all?

Kellogg's to London: No cereal for you

Frightening news for the London-area economy today, as Kellogg's, the cereal-making global giant, announced its factory here would close by the end of 2014, throwing over 500 unionized and management employees out of work.

The news comes on the heels of last month's announcement that 110 unionized workers would lose their jobs in January. 11 managers were turfed at that time, as well. The company is on a global cost-cutting and rationalization binge - which is easy enough to understand from a macroeconomic perspective, but incredibly difficult to swallow if it's your job that's just disappeared, and now you have to go home and explain it to your family.

I wrote about it for Yahoo! Canada, and the article is available here:

Kellogg’s to close Ontario plant, lay off 500 workers

Additional resources are here:

• CTV London: Kellogg's to close their London plant by the end of 2014
• London Free Press:  Hundreds losing jobs as Kellogg's closing London plant
• Kellogg Canada company profile on the Industry Canada website
• Bakery, Confectionery, Tobacco Workers & Grain Millers Local 154-G union website
• Western's Ivey Business School (home of source David Sparling, who connected with me from Dublin for this story.)

Thematic Photographic 272 - Dawn and dusk

One on final
New York, NY
November 2013

New York's JFK airport is a fascinating place to wander around before the rest of the world is awake. It may seem like you could roll a bowling ball down the average concourse and not hit anybody, but if you look closely enough you'll notice isolated beehives of activity that betray the 24/7/365 nature of this remarkable place.

I captured this one as I walked out to my plane. I'm guessing it's a bit of a no-no to drop your backpack on the tarmac, pull your camera out and start shooting. I'm also guessing the security folks wouldn't have been too pleased if they had been around at all that morning. As it was, no one said anything as I racked off a couple of quick pictures before packing up again and trotting to the plane.

Maybe I should break the rules more often, as I kinda like this one.

Your turn: Thematic's theme this week is dawn and dusk, and I've chosen it because it's around these two times of day that we often bring home our best pictures. Why? Well, the low-angled, delightfully-colored light from the sun probably has something to do with it. Perhaps fatigue does, as well. But there's no mistaking a golden hour shot, and no forgetting the moment, either. I'll dispense with the instructions, as I'm sure you know how it all works (head here in case you don't.) I'm really looking forward to seeing what you can come up with this week.

Keeping the swans at bay

The story of us
Stratford, ON
August 2013

There's a spot beside the storied Avon River in the middle of Stratford, Ontario where you can sit and watch the similarly storied swans wander around in search of their next meal.

There are actually lots of spots where you can sit and watch, which is exactly what my wife and I did on this seemingly perfect summer's night.

As we sat on a memorial bench under a stand of massive trees beside the water. I don't remember what we saw as much as I remember how it felt. In a word, right. We were there to see a play that night, but it could have just as easily been a movie. Or dinner. Or nothing at all.

What mattered was that I was there with her. And as long as we could still have evenings like this, everything was right in the world.

Your turn: Who do you celebrate?

One more thing: This photo winds down Thematic's celebration-themed week. Head here to share yours. Our next theme, dawn and dusk, launches tonight at 7 p.m. Eastern.

Remembering the moment before she turned 16

Celebrate life
London, ON
September 2013

Before the candles can be lit, before the cake is carefully walked to the table. Before the birthday girl can make her wish. Before any of this can happen, I need a picture of the cake.

Like to many photographic "traditions" of mine, I don't know where it comes from. Maybe the cake is such a transient part of the ritual that I feel a deep-seated need to freeze it in time. Maybe I'm thinking back to my own childhood and remembering the cakes that used to materialize in front of me (chocolate with light-chocolate icing and embedded chocolate chips. Yum.) Maybe I think a focused shot of the soon-to-be-gooey mess would preserve the moment.

I'll probably never figure it out, but I do enjoy that feeling I get when I look back at pictures like this. Sure, what comes next is the moment everyone waits for, the one that gets the signature photos and the one that shows up in highlight reels for years to come (and I've included them here lest my father-in-law wonder why I left them out.)

But sometimes I just want to rewind a little to the moment before. To when the best part was ahead of the birthday boy or girl - and indeed the rest of us - and we were all waiting for something good to happen. And when Dahlia turned 16 not too long ago, something good certainly happened - indeed she's been making good things happen to everyone around her since the day she was born.

I think often about these so-called electric moments, where your entire body almost seems to be at a heightened state of awareness because you can almost feel what's about to happen. Where you can almost feel like you're holding back time as you remember, in beyond-high-def, every last visual, sound and feeling. It's the difference between surviving and truly living, a place where you don't have to try too hard to suck that much more joy out of whatever it is that's going on.

It doesn't have to be a birthday. It can be an everyday moment, too. And if we don't stop time before it happens, we may never know what that might feel like.

What do you buy a geek?

It's quite a kick being a writer, because I get to spend my days pulling words together in my quiet home office with my dog at my feet, or at the kitchen table with the dog at my feet, or in the Starbucks while I'm slurping a tea and free Wi-Fi with the dog most definitely not at my feet.

And when the words are arranged just so, I send them off to some faraway place, where before long they get published in some pretty neat places.

It's magic. Every time. And it'll never get old.

Sometimes the words end up in a new place. Like this week, when Reader's Digest Canada published my work for the first time. The article, 10 Holiday Gifts For Tech Lovers, will hopefully ease the holiday-time angst many of us feel when we head to the mall. Until the utopian future of my dreams where this ridiculous year-end retail tradition is finally put to rest, I'll keep writing articles like this. I promise I won't show up at the Starbucks with the dog.

Enjoy the read.

The sun sets on Sun Media

The headline, Sun Media announces 200 layoffs, is sad enough, but it's the bigger picture that's the real tragedy.

This is the company's third layoff announcement in 13 months. In November 2012, 500 people lost their jobs when production plants in Ottawa and Kingston were closed. Last July, they were at it again, this time shuttering 8 local newspapers and three commuter papers, and taking 360 people out in the process. What used to be an annual "tradition" has now become twice-yearly. And right before the holidays. Nice.

A little bit of disclosure: I used to write an op-ed column for the London Free Press, which is now owned by Sun Media, which is a unit of Quebecor. It was (and is) a paper that was (and still is) staffed by great, community-minded journalists who wanted (and still want) to make a difference. Freeps reporters often call me to comment on tech stories they're working on, and I very much enjoy working with all of them.

The problem is this: these days, thanks to decisions being made in corner offices far away, by people who have probably never had a byline, there are far fewer of them. And those who remain live under the Sword of Damocles, wondering if the next, inevitable round of cuts will finally catch up with them. In the meantime the product, starved of resources, gets thinner and less relevant with each passing day despite the near-heroic efforts of the employees who remain. How they continue to perform as they do amid the day-to-day gloom that pervades their environment is beyond me.

To be fair, Sun Media is hardly alone in this. Virtually every major Canadian media organization has announced recurring layoffs over the past year. Two years. Decade. Wherever you are, it's an ugly time to be in media these days thanks largely to a fundamental, Internet-driven shift in who consumes news, how we consume it, and who pays for it. Advertisers, once limited to the big 3 of newspaper, television and radio, are now able to get their message out on a growing range of increasingly interactive and engaging platforms. Real-time, online advertising tools allow incredibly granular visibility into spend, return and engagement.

The Internet, that miracle of modern technology, destroys existing businesses as it creates new ones. None of this is new. What is especially galling about Sun Media's method of navigating the current tumult, however, is its stubborn unwillingness to recognize that the world has changed. The chain's MO is simple: cut successive layers of fat out of the organization until there's no fat left. Proceed into muscle, and then finally bone. Keep using the usual corporate-ese doublespeak to convince everyone there's an actual strategy here. Repeat until there's nothing left to cut.

I'd like to direct your attention to the photo at the top of this entry. It is the chain's Twitter account. Notice a few small details:

• They have never tweeted.
• They follow no one.
• They self-identify as "Canada's largest newspaper publisher."

It reminds me of an ostrich, its head buried deeply in the sand while the world churns around it. With this sad example of media myopia in mind, I feel compelled to share some advice with the powers-that-be back in Quebec:

Dudes, you're not in the newspaper business anymore. You're in the platform business. The online world is rewriting the rules that govern your industry, yet in the middle of endless "cost-cutting", you completely ignore the changes going on around you. The scenario would be comical if successive waves of dedicated and once-and-still-possibly-loyal employees weren't being economically lobotimized in the process.

Every other media organization in the country - and beyond - is being buffeted by the same forces you use as convenient excuses every time you sharpen the layoff knife. Every other media organization, except you, is investing heavily in alternative-delivery platforms so they can adapt to the new reality. Some will succeed, and most will fail. But they're at least giving it a shot, and trying to advance the state of the art in online, socially-engaged, mobile-fuelled communications and media.

Perhaps Julie Tremblay, your CEO, said it best in her statement released Wednesday: "It is very tough to announce job cuts. But as distressing as they are for the employees involved, these restructuring initiatives are necessary to maintain our leading position and ensure the corporation's sustainability."

On the assumption that anyone back at the mothership is listening, gutting your product in the hope that cost-cutting will "ensure the corporation's sustainability" is about as useful a strategy as closing your most profitable stores and hoping the band-aid you've stuffed into the gaping wound will be enough to keep you alive [cough, Sears, cough.]

It won't.

But as long as the spreadsheet jockeys are calling the shots, don't let my plaintive voice keep you from systematically dissolving what was once a great source of inspirational journalism. We all know you're not listening, anyway, but that's hardly material anymore: Canadians interested in media that matters are already disconnecting from the diluted product you insist on selling them. They're more than a little smarter than you seem to think they are.

On Mom, Dad, and endless childhood

"I think all of us are always five years old in the presence and absence of our parents."
Sherman Alexie

Nelson Mandela has died

One of modern history's most famous political figures has passed away, Nelson Mandela was 95.

More to come...

News links:

• CTV
• ABC
• CNN
• Washington Post - Live stream of Obama's statement on Mandela's death

Backgrounders:

• CTV - a look back at Mandela's life
• BBC - Obituary; Andrew Harding, Remembering the Man
• NBC - 7 ways Mandela changed South Africa
• New York Times - Obituary by Bill Keller
• The Daily Beast - 6 defining moments (video)
• The Huffington Post - a look back
• Wikipedia entry

Notable quotes:

• "No one is born hating another person because of the colour of his skin, or his background, or his religion. People must learn to hate, and if they can learn to hate, they can be taught to love, for love comes more naturally to the human heart than its opposite."
• "A winner is a dreamer who never gives up. The brave man is not the one who has no fears, he is the one who triumphs over his fears."
• "It always seems impossible until its done."
• "I was not a messiah, but an ordinary man who had become a leader because of extraordinary circumstances."

Change your password. Now. Please.

I woke up early to the sound of my smartphone vibrating on the nightstand. My first thought was a quick "ruh roh" as thoughts of Scooby Doo darted through my sleep-addled brain. If the phone rings before dawn, something is always up, and it usually involves meddling kids, old, grumpy men who live in abandoned mine communities, and some ascot-wearing doofus with a plan.

I quickly shook off the remnants of a cartoon nightmare and snapped to attention. Since it was my cell and not the landline, I was comforted that no one had died or gotten sick. It was a producer from Toronto. She was from CTV's Canada AM, and they wanted to talk about this week's revelation that 2 million username/password combinations had been stolen from major web companies like Facebook, Twitter and Google, and subsequently posted online.

The list illustrated a number of things we've known for years: we tend to use the same usernames and passwords for multiple services and accounts, we tend to use easily-guessed passwords (123456? Seriously?) and we rarely, if ever, change them.

So in a blink I was grabbing my laptop, making myself look pretty (well, as close to presentable as this hideous face is ever going to get), setting up my big-time kitchen studio with the bamboo window coverings, and settling in for a chat with Marcia MacMillan. Marie the Director calmly talked in my ear and expertly made sure everything was perfectly set up for the hit. I was in amazing hands and I've got to admit it felt pretty darn good to be sitting in the chair.

The interview went well - the video is here if you want to watch - and when we were off-air, I shut FaceTime down, tossed on my boots and coat and saw our daughter's smiling face pop into the kitchen. Another early morning choir practice, another reminder that I'm beyond lucky to be able to weave live television, radio and media work into our family's day-to-day life.

Some days, you just have to pinch yourself a little.

Life of dog

Every house has its routine, and ours is no different. Depending on the day, someone is always up early to write, work, or head to early choir practice. Our kitchen is a beehive of transient activity as lunches are packed, plans for the day are made, and hugs are given before everyone sweeps out the front door and heads off in a blizzard of directions.

Except for me. Most mornings, I wave goodbye at the front door, dog by my feet, as my wife pulls the car out of the driveway. And as she turns the corner and heads out of view, it's just me and a silver-furred schnauzer who stares at me as if he's asking, "Okay Dad, what's next?"

Usually, that means a quick walk before I get back inside and into my office. Words have to be written, and deadlines don't much allow for leisurely walks with the dog.

At least that's what I'd convinced myself. I figured a long walk later on would make up for the fact that I had to rush Frasier through his business every morning. I couldn't explain it to him, obviously, but as long as I justified it to myself, I figured it would be enough for him, as well.

Except this morning it wasn't enough. As I got my woolies on in the front vestibule before we headed out, I watched him standing patiently beside the front door, his nose practically pressed into the side window as he quietly waited for me to be ready. A quick walk suddenly didn't feel right, didn't feel fair to him.

He deserved something more. He deserved more time to explore the neighborhood, deserved more of my undivided attention, with no smartphone-reading or emailing.

So that's what we did. The phone stayed in my pocket as we took the long route. I let him linger over snowbanks, talked to him as he stubbornly refused to cross the street, listened to his voice as he growled at a passing bird, laughed at him as he dug his head deep into the snow and yanked it out with ice embedded in his fur.

By the time we got home, he didn't want to go back inside. Instead of turning toward the door, pulled me further down the street before turning around as if he was inviting me to stay out all morning. He finally bounced his way back to the front door when I promised him a treat. As I put my key into the lock, I unlatched his leash and just petted him for minute. I'm not sure who was smiling more as I cracked the door open and watched his wiggling form bolt into the front hall.

I headed downstairs and checked my watch: our leisurely stroll had cost me barely 15 minutes more than the usual quickie. Time definitely well spent, and there will be more leisurely morning walks in our future.

The irony is I thought he was the only one who deserved the extra time, the extra attention. He is, of course, but he's not the only one. Lucky me indeed.

On why we read

"A reader lives a thousand lives before he dies.
A man who never reads lives only one."
George R.R. Martin, A Dance with Dragons

I have my wife to thank for this one. She posted it to her Facebook wall, and in doing so inspired me.

I don't read as much as I ought to - probably because I spend too much time writing. Wait, that's a lie: I read a lot, but not as many books as I'd like. Most days are spent trolling the Internet, hoovering RSS feeds, grabbing snippets on my smartphone while I'm walking the dog, reading summaries and getting myself up to speed on my tablet while I down the morning's bowl of oatmeal.

I read like a sponge, but not the leather-bound literature I grew up with. Time to get back to that. I've got to get better at carving out more time to curl up with an actual book.

Speaking of which, I'm writing one now. Hopefully when it's done it'll help other folks live another life, and inspire them to share their own stories, as well.

Your turn: What have you read lately? How did it move you?

Thematic Photographic 271 - Celebrate

Life is good
London, ON
July 2013

I'm going to make it simple this week, because the days are short and I can't handle anything more complex than basic simplicity.

It's a happy time of year. At least it's supposed to be. And since every opportunity to celebrate is a welcome one, I think we should spend an entire week sharing celebrations through photography.

Are you in?

Your turn: Share a celebration-themed pic on your blog or website, then leave a comment here letting tout la gang know where to find it. Visit other participants to share the visual goodness of it all, and feel free to drop more pics into the mix as the week wears on. Tweet your entries to #ThematicPhotographic. If you're new to the whole Thematic thing, just click here and all will be explained. And please accept my thanks for making this such a highlight of my online week.

An unforgettable day in a bitterly cold park

Old growth
London, ON
February 2013

I wanted to end Thematic's look at foreground-themed photographs - see here if you'd like to share yours - with this shot.

As much as I like the framing, lighting and coloring, it isn't the technical aspects of the photo that make it stick in my mind. Rather, like so many other pics in my archives, it serves as a signpost to my life. Simply put, when I look at pictures, they take me back to certain moments in time.

This was a hard moment, a bitterly cold winter afternoon when I was trying to keep the kids occupied. Debbie was in Montreal to be with her hospitalized mom. Things were not good, and I spent a good amount of the time trying to juggle the realities of the day-to-day life of our kids with the unreality of dealing with the news from back home.

So we went to the park by the river, fed the ducks, and played on the empty playground. It was a grey day, and the cold wind blew right through our coats and froze my fingers when I tried to take pictures. But I kept taking pictures anyway, because for some reason I didn't want to forget the day, didn't want to lose what it felt like to be in this place with them.

Deb's mom passed away later that week, and if I could go back to this day when we had her, I would. Instead, I'm left with a two-dimensional photo and memories of my kids playing on the frozen playground, their voices echoing throughout the deserted park. It'll have to do.