Can you bend light?

Optics
West Palm Beach, FL, December 2010

I may not be able to bend light, but that doesn't mean I won't elbow someone else's bratty kids out of the way so I can grab this image of a science museum exhibit.

Okay, I didn't elbow anyone. I'm Canadian, and we're way too polite to ever behave in that manner. Rather, I waited patiently for the bratty kids to ADHD their way to the next display - "ooh look, over there...shiny!" - before taking out my camera and having some fun in the almost-dark. It was a quick, improvised shot that probably shouldn't have turned out remotely decent. But I was having a good day in a cool place with my wife and kids, and somehow I got a little lucky.

Sometimes, this camera thing can be a kick.

Your turn: How do you shoot in crowds without getting everyone else's elbows - or worse - in the frame?

One more thing: This photo supports the latest Thematic theme, curves. It's nowhere near too late to share your own, so click here and have fun with it.

Like Saturn's rings...

Abstract light
London, ON, February 2010
[Please click here to share your own curved vision]

This is another one of those abstract-in-the-everyday moments that literally appeared to me when I looked up. I was at an indoor playground, of all places, watching the kids frolic with their friends, so it wasn't exactly a prime photographic environment. If we're being brutally honest, it was hellish, with hastily painted surfaces assaulting my eyes, screaming children assaulting my ears and a growing migraine working its way through my brain stem.

But even the most barren deserts have their charms, and such was the case on this day. For a brief moment, I found solace in a neat example of optics in a place where no one else seemed to care.

Your turn: What's the most desert-like place where you've taken compelling photos? Can you share one?

One more thing: Possible song reference in the title. Guesses?

Dripping wet

The pause that refreshes
London, ON
February 2010
[Click photo to embiggen]

About this photo: It's curves week and you're invited to the curvy party. What the heck am I talking about? Click here and all will be explained.

You'll laugh if I tell you where I captured this photo. I will say that it reinforced my long-held belief that soul-stirring moments happen in the most surprising places, and you can't stop yourself from drinking them in just because people gather around you in a semi-circle and stare at you like you're nuts. Do it anyway and forget what anyone else thinks.

You know, the more I do this photo thing, the more I realize that the lessons I'm learning behind the lens pretty much apply on the other side, too. Learning about life by spending time with a Nikon: Who would have thought?

Your turn: What has photography taught you?

25 years after Challenger

I'm a day late, but I still didn't want the quarter century anniversary of the loss of the Space Shuttle Challenger and her crew to slip into history unnoticed.

I just finished watching the Progress 41 cargo ship dock to the Pirs compartment on the International Space Station. Twenty-five years and a day after Challenger tumbled into the Atlantic, the fantastically complex and near-miraculous business of space continued uninterrupted some 220 miles above our heads. And I got to watch it from my netbook as I wandered around the house excitedly showing the Internet-streamed spectacle anyone I could find.

I'm nowhere near convinced we've learned our lessons from that terrible morning a generation ago - among them, communicate with each other, and appreciate that any technology is subject to the same weaknesses inherent in those who created it - because since then we've lost another orbiter and witnessed the slow dismantling of America's space program.

President Obama may have been trying to evoke JFK when he dropped the "Sputnik moment" line during last week's State of the Union address, but the sad reality is western society no longer believes space exploration deserves priority treatment or funding. The myopia which had clouded U.S. space policy decisions since the end of the Apollo era is showing no signs of clearing up. If anything, it's worsening. Which makes me wonder what the astronauts who died trying to build a space-based future would have thought.

Your turn: Does space exploration have a future? Should it? Why/why not?

One more thing: I'm a bit of a space-head, and have written about this subject both on this blog and in print in years past. Here's what I wrote five years ago, and here's a column I wrote in the wake of the second shuttle accident.

When life throws you curves...

...you throw them right back.

I've lost count of how many curves I've fielded over the last couple of years. It would be easy to add them all up and conclude that life is a never-ending excuse to feel down.

But here's the thing: that would be a mistake. The point is, as challenging as life is, it's probably the one biggest gift we'll ever receive. My late dad used to say he woke up this morning, and nothing else beyond that mattered. He was right.

So for the next week as we contemplate curves and how they arrive in our midst, I hope we'll consider the fact that there are two sides to any curve. Whether we choose to focus on one side or the other is entirely up to us.

Your turn: What does the bright side of your curve look like?

Thematic Photographic 132 - Curves

Waiting for a cruise
London, ON, November 2010

I've always had a thing for the Volkswagen Karmann Ghia, especially in its convertible form. It was - and still is, for those lucky enough to own one - a lovingly designed car that happened to be relatively affordable. Time has been good to the Karmann, and it ranks, to me anyway, as a timeless example of thoughtful, functional engineering.

I think this well maintained example of the breed is a great way to launch our new Thematic Photographic theme, curves. I hope you're game for some curvy fun with your lens over the next week.

Your turn: The deal is fairly simple. Just take a picture with a curve in it and post it to your blog. Leave a comment here, and visit other participants to spread the joy. Feel free to share already-posted or archival work, too. Don't be afraid to stretch the bounds when deciding how to interpret the theme - there are no rights and wrongs here. And have fun, because that's why we do this. Click here for more background on how Thematic works.

Into the blue forest

Painted by the fog
London, ON, February 2010
[Click photo to embiggen]

A neat thing happens in the early morning fog as the light tends to shift toward the blue side of the spectrum. I'm pretty sure there's a valid optical reason for it, and I'll leave our budding physicists to explain the intricacies of it all.

The only thing that mattered to me at the moment I took this was making sure the picture reflected that mysterious sense of quiet that settles over a place when the fog rolls in. It isn't just that the sounds were hushed - they, of course, were - but rather that the silence managed to embed itself deep inside my head.

When the only thing you can hear is the sound of yourself thinking, you know it's a special moment that deserves a bookmark of some sort.

Your turn: How do you define true silence?

One more thing: This photo supports our blue Thematic theme. Feel free to click here if you'd like to share yours (you know, it's never really too late!) And check back later today - 7:00 p.m. Eastern - when we launch our next weekly theme. What will it be? Well, what would you like it to be? We're happily taking suggestions in comments.

Corvette summer

Crossed flag classic
London, ON, July 2010

About this photo: It's Thematic's blue week. Click here. Because life's always a little sweeter with a bit of color.

Logically, this automotive badge makes no sense. The car to which it is attached is not propelled by a turbocharged engine. Close inspection of the vehicle reveals no evidence of anything remotely resembling a jet, either. It's eight cylinders of normally aspirated American open-road glory, folks, and marketing precision is proudly not part of the equation.

In a similarly logical vein, I know that this car, engineered around the time Canada celebrated its hundredth birthday, falls far short of modern automotive standards for performance, efficiency and safety. Today's vehicles can go faster on less fuel, with far greater levels of protection for their passengers. I'm pretty sure the four-door grandpa-mobile I rented on our recent vacation had more horsepower than this thing - not to mention enough room for our luggage. And a fairly decent in-car entertainment system, too.

But here's the thing: None of that matters when you come face-to-face with an icon of automotive history. Logic means little when the engineering and design of a bygone era reach across the decades and hold you, riveted in place, as you stare at every lovingly conceived curve.

Is it as optimally aerodynamic as your neighbor's Prius? Does anybody really care? This is as close to driveway art as we're ever going to get, so I'm content to just hang out beside it for a bit, content in the knowledge that today's eco-conscious, PC world still has room for pieces of history that still inspire.

I doubt my kids will have similar moments in their driveways 30 years on with a 2010 Toyota Camry.

Your turn: Why does history intrigue us?

Welcome to the urban jungle

Ribbit
London, ON, July 2010
[Please click here to share your own blue-themed vision]

The typical street in the typical city is littered with buildings designed to provide shelter for the lowest possible cost. Gargoyles, patinas and flourishes have no place today's bottom line economy. In their place we get cinderblocks, straight lines and a decided lack of anything remotely unique.

The result: Streetscapes that don't vary from one part of town to another. Indeed, towns themselves have little to differentiate themselves from others. It's a never-ending stream of sameness, and it's easy to understand when folks simply decide to stop paying attention. Why bother if it's all the same?

Well, even among the sameness, there's variation. In this case, I was standing in a gas station when I noticed this concrete-painted mural. They pop up here and there in our burg, little slivers of art where you least expect them, the perfect antidote to the epidemic of sameness.

Your turn: Can small things like this make a difference?

Taking Facebook to work

Lots of Canadians use social media while at work. I'm sure we're not alone, of course, but a story in the Toronto Star last week contained some eye-popping numbers on just how pervasive it is.

I spoke with CTV News Channel's Marcia Macmillan on Sunday afternoon about all the time we're apparently frittering away updating our statuses and tagging each photos of each other. My conclusion? It's not as dire as it looks. Here's the video.

Your turn: Do you use social media at work? For personal use? Professional? Both? Does your boss know/care? Should this even be an issue?

Three amigos

The next generation
Deerfield Beach, FL, December 2010
[Please click here to share your own blue-themed pic]

I get the occasional razz for not posting more pictures of our kids. It's a critique I take seriously, as one of the original goals of this blog was to shrink the distance between us here in our adopted burg and the rest of our family back home.

But a funny thing happens between intent and reality. Namely, the game plan changes. Life gets in the way. People get busy. The kids don't want to pose together. And not everyone wants to see endless pictures of the kids, anyway.

So on the rare occasions when they do consent to stop and be photographed while:

1) in relatively close proximity to one another; and
2) one of them does not have a sibling in a headlock; and
3) rabbit ears are blessedly absent

I grab the opportunity as quickly as I possibly can. Because no one really knows when it'll happen again.

Your turn: How do you get kids to pay attention long enough to grab 'em for a picture?

Swing kid

Richmond Hill, ON
April 2010
[Please click here to share your Thematic blue]

I've been trying to learn how to stop time. Despite my stunning lack of success to-date, I'm slowly realizing that this may not be the point after all. We may, now and forever, lack the technology to stop time in its tracks, but there's nothing stopping us from learning how to squeeze a little more out of its passage.

In other words, the vehicle may always move at the same speed. But with the right attitude, we can teach ourselves to enjoy the trip a lot more.

In that light, I present this moment with our daughter. She's growing fast, so she won't always want to swing on the swing. But on this spring day, she did. So I positioned myself as closely as I dared to capture what it looked - and maybe even felt - like to try to touch the sky.

I can't stop time any better than she can defy gravity. And before long, she'll be so busy with life's other challenges that the thought of heading over to the playground will seem laughably juvenile. But on this day, none of that mattered as we opened our eyes just long enough to enjoy this fleeting moment of her fast forward life.

Your turn: Can you stop time?

Thematic Photographic 131 - Blue

He has the power
West Palm Beach, FL, December 2010

We're going back to basics with this week's Thematic Photographic theme, blue. At its simplest, pick photos with blue in them and share them to your heart's content. If you really want to stretch things, feel free to explore not just what blue looks like, but what it feels like - a bummed out child, a sad-looking scene, etc. If it looks or feels blue, we want to see it.

That's it!

Oh, and have fun. Because that's why I first came up with this weekly photo sharing activity. And why it remains such a joy.

Your turn: Share a blue-themed pic, then pop back here and leave a comment letting folks know where to find it. Repeat. Bonus points if you bring a friend along for the ride. Click here if you're new to the Thematic thing.

When guns come to your kid's school

I was in Toronto yesterday, but my trusty BlackBerry kept feeding me regular updates of what was going on back home. The one that got my attention was the report of a lockdown at a high school - Mother Teresa Secondary - not a 10-minute drive from my house. All doors and windows were locked and the lights were shut off after witnesses reported seeing someone with a gun on campus.

Our kids don't go there, but my first thought was that it could just as easily have been my kids' school. It can be anyone's school, anywhere, anytime. Welcome to the modern age.

I put it out of my mind as I went back into my meetings, but as I headed through intense snow and traffic on my way home, my BlackBerry once again chirped. Patrick Maloney, a reporter for the London Free Press, wanted my perspective on how kids with cell phones and smartphones can affect how events like this play out. He wanted to know if I felt it was a good or a bad thing for kids to be texting in the middle of a crisis. Here's the result*:

For one technology expert, the Mother Teresa incident underscores the positives of letting cellphones in -- though he cautions it's not always a good thing.

"In many cases, in crisis situations, the facts people don't know can cause panic," said Carmi Levy, a London-based technology analyst.

"If properly used, (social media technology) can shed light on events and help people navigate them more easily."

But they can also spread rumours, he notes.

"That's the dark side of texting and social media . . . there are no checks and balances," he said. "It's just as easy to distribute bad information."

The full article, Students text to spread lockdown news quickly, may be found here.

Your turn: So what do you think? Do social media/texting-savvy teens help or hinder matters when bad stuff happens at school?

One more thing: Next Thematic - new theme, blue - will launch tonight at 7:00 Eastern. A little late, I know, but it's been a busy week. Thank you for your understanding.

*I lied, make that two: I wore a headset, Officer Bob.

One fish, two fish

Addiction is a funny beast. If it involves alcohol, drugs, gambling, or some noxious combination of same, it's generally perceived as a bad thing. But get hooked on Glee, orange juice or the grandaddy of them all, phonics, and you'd be forgiven for not making it past the third of the 12 steps.

Which is my way of admitting I'm addicted to the arcane subset of photography that involves walking into a grocery store and taking pictures of whatever's on sale. I have no idea how this little vice of mine took root or why it's evolved as it has. I do know that it's almost gotten me escorted out of the Wal-Mart once, and it's resulted in my being left alone by my annoyed wife on more than one occasion. Yet I still persist.

It's not as if the resulting photos are especially unique. They're pictures of everyday foods, after all, shot hastily under bad lighting, often with my BlackBerry's camera because to haul out the DSLR might actually result in my being forcibly ejected or, gasp, hauled in for questioning by mall cop wannabes. I won't be blowing these up to poster size or submitting them for gallery displays.

Then why?

Because I view grocery shopping as one of those necessities of modern life that, depending on our attitude can either be a chore or an opportunity for enjoyment. I choose enjoyment. When I tag along with my wife, it's a date. It isn't champagne and candles at some swanky restaurant, but that's precisely the point. It doesn't have to be. It's simply a time for us to be together, and I've never believed in limiting those opportunities to nights out or special occasions.

Indeed, special occasions can happen anytime if we let them. Even in the fish section.

Your turn: How do you make the ordinary seem special?

One more thing: These fish are far from home, though I strongly suspect they're patently unaware of that fact. Our own Thematic far-from-home journey continues...here.

New York, New York. Sort of.

Scrape the scaled sky
Boca Raton, FL, December 2009

About this photo: The far from home theme wraps up tomorrow when we launch our next theme at 7:00 p.m. Eastern. We're still taking submissions for this one, though, so if you've got a picture that supports the theme - even one that's already been posted online somewhere - click here to share it.

A foam puzzle reproduction of a pre-9/11 New York City skyline will always attract at least a sliver of attention. In southern Florida, however, it'll stop you in your tracks. Well, it stopped me, anyway. I guess I still feel a little sad every time I see anything with the twin towers in it - even if it's no taller than our youngest child, and might tip over if I turn the fan just far enough.

My morose sense of nostalgia notwithstanding, chops to the owners of this delightful deli (Ben's, which I wrote about here) who came up with this unique way to add something memorable to the experience of being here.

Some folks just get it.

Your turn: Small things that you remember from along the way. Please discuss.

Deep in the heart of...Georgia

Places and names
Dalton, GA, January 2009
[Please click here for more far-from-home goodness]

I've been to many places in my life, but I can quite honestly say that up until this cold night in northern Georgia, I had never been on or near Dug Gap Battle Road.

If we hadn't been so tired from being on the road since first light, we might have explored the neighborhood a little more. I'm sure there were a few other street sign gems lurking in the darkness.

Your turn: Strange street or place names. Please discuss.

Playing in another world

Beach kids
Delray Beach, FL, December 2010
[Please click here for more far from home Thematic]

We seem to have made it a family habit to go to the beach on the last day of the year. It didn't evolve deliberately. Rather, it's one of those little life events that seem to play out according to an unseen script. We turn around on December 31st and, somehow, we're watching our kids frolic in the surf.

However they got here on this day, it was clear to anyone who saw them that they came from somewhere that may as well be on another planet. While most everyone else hung back from the water because it wasn't quite warm enough, our intrepid kids dove right in and stayed in, afraid to miss so much as an extra minute of playtime in the surf.

Two weeks before I tripped the shutter on this moment, they had been battling snowdrifts that cast shadows above their heads. Playing outside meant pulling on multiple layers of winter clothes, then sitting around the kitchen table when they were done as my wife made them hot chocolate. For the record, there was no hot chocolate in the cooler on this day.

I stood further up the beach watching them play for what seemed like an age. I waited for them to get tired, to slow down, to want to come back to our seats and take a break. Hours later, I was still waiting. I guess all that living in a snowbound land made it that much more urgent for them to cram in as much beach time as they could. Because in just a few hours the year would be over. And not long after that they'd have to head back home.

The hot chocolate, as always, would be waiting for them. Wherever they ever call home, they know mom will never let them down.

Your turn: Rituals of childhood. Got one to share?

Dear Steve Jobs: Only in health

The tech world is buzzing with news that Apple's CEO Steve Jobs is taking a medical leave of absence (Mashable story here.)

The U.S. stock markets are closed for Martin Luther King Jr. Day, but one can only surmise that Apple's share price will take a hit when investors return tomorrow. I'll be discussing this issue with Gary Doyle of 570News in Kitchener just after 1:00 p.m. Eastern today (listen live here.)

(If you'd like to listen to the interview, the show page is here. The actual interview, in MP3 format, is here.)

Beyond the seismic market implications of the potential departure of one of the most influential business leaders of our generation - I'm not fawning here; it is what it is - I find myself looking at things from another perspective. A human one.

He's sick. Very, apparently. And however much success we've amassed on this planet, we all leave it the same way. I feel deep empathy for his family as they ponder what tomorrow will bring, and watch his every move, wondering whether this is the beginning of the end. So many of us have been there that I feel compelled to view today's news through that lens before any other.

Your turn: Thoughts?

But wait, there's more: I ended up chatting about this on television...

• Business News Network (BNN) - video here
• CTV News Channel with Sandie Rinaldo - video here
• CTV National News report with Omar Sachedina - report video here, newscast video here (report is about 2:20 in).
  

My favorite clip from the day: "He's the tech world's equivalent of Wayne Gretzky. He can see above and beyond what everyone else sees."

Indeed.

When it's over...

Final resting place
Duvernay, QC, November 2010

I was last in this place in June, at my dad's unveiling, and I returned on this painfully bright morning with my mom. It wasn't a happy moment, of course, but as we chatted quietly on the way back to her house, I was glad we had come here. Not because it changed anything, but because it gave me - and presumably her - a rare opportunity to try, impossible as it may seem, to figure out where we all go from here.

Every time I'm here, I feel as far away from reality as I can possibly get. I know cemeteries represent the logical end of our life's journey, and I can walk endlessly through virtually any other graveyard on the planet. It's easy when I'm disconnectedly learning about the lives of others, but not so easy when those are my family members' names inscribed on the headstones.

I'm pretty sure my quick photography session on the way back to the car violated some of the rules of protocol of this place, but I didn't want to return home with nothing but empty, sad thoughts bouncing around my head. As it it, the thoughts remain sad. But at least they now have an accompanying visual.