Thematic Photographic 97 - Spring has sprung

Reborn
London, ON
April 2009

It's been a while since we did Thematic Photographic (a month!) I've been somewhat - okay, very - consumed with my new job and the day-to-day challenges of balancing the activities of three very busy kids with those of two busy parents and a rather busy dog as well. I've been cutting into my sleep to compensate, but I realize that can only last for so long before something's got to give.

As I've been zipping from one place to another, I've been taking little time-outs to shoot pictures of spring. Getting them processed and uploaded to the blog is an entirely different matter, so for this week's launch photo, you'll have to settle for this year-old view from my back yard. These particular leaves no longer exist, of course. But the next generation is already well on its way toward a life of shade provision, oxygen generation and smile induction.

Which is why we so eagerly await the new dawn every year. And why I look forward to seeing your own interpretation of my favorite season.

Your turn: Please share a spring-themed photo on your blog, then simply paste the link to the entry here in a comment. This makes it easy for all of us to share. Oh, and don't forget to have fun with it, as that's the whole point of this exercise. Thanks!

For more background on Thematic Photographic, please click here. To see all TP-themed entries, click here.

Thematic Photographic - on its way

Normally by now I'd have the new Thematic Photographic entry up on the blog, and all would be well with the world. Well, the virtual, bloggy, social media-ish one that I've conjured up in my head, anyway.

But thanks to an electrical storm on the way home from work (very cool to observe from inside the car, but very frightening given Londoners' inability to drive on wet roads), a detour to the mall to pick up my now-repaired BlackBerry (yay!) and a quick stop at home before carting the little folks to gymnastics, I'm going to have to delay the upload till later tonight.

Real life takes precedence tonight. As it should.

Photos soon...

Your turn: Turning the Internet spigot off for a bit. Please discuss.

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The story of our lives
London, ON, March 2009

My BlackBerry had a bad day last month and had to take a trip back to the BlackBerry Repair Shop. Despite the fact that BlackBerrys (yes, plural with a "y") are made by Waterloo, Ontario, Canada-based Research In Motion, I hear the repair place is conveniently located next to Santa's Village.

I'm posting this as a reminder to myself that the little elves have completed fixing my little slice of technological addiction, so I'd best head back to the store after work to pick it up.

Your turn: What is it with Canadians? Even their error messages are polite?

One more thing: Thematic Photographic returns tonight. Drop by at 7 p.m. Eastern for our spring-themed kickoff. Or stalk your neighborhood with your camera, then drop by. Either way, it'll be great to get things rolling again.

Watery fingers

Splish splash
Deerfield Beach, FL, December 2008

I'll be brief because I'm up at an ungodly hour and my head's spinning too quickly to go back to sleep. But I came across this in my archives and thought I'd share it with you.

I can't seem to stop thinking about the unfolding disaster in the Gulf of Mexico, and how it could render tiny, blink-and-you-miss-it moments like this crashing wave mere memories for a while. Mankind has a nasty habit of messing up chunks of the planet - just ask the human and non-human residents of Prince William Sound, who've been trying and failing to fully get rid of traces of the Exxon Valdez spill for nearly a generation - and this latest oil spill is yet another chapter in an ever lengthening book.

The fallout from the explosion and sinking of the Deepwater Horizon rig serves as yet another reminder that something's got to change. I asked this simple question on my Facebook page the other day - Watching the Louisiana coast get smothered by a slick. Wondering how much longer humanity can continue the petrol parade - and ended up touching off a debate between friends living on opposite sides of the planet.

It was a great, eye-opening discussion, and I've been thinking a lot about that exchange ever since. I realize I have no answers, though. So as I look at scenes like the one at the top of this entry, I think to myself that it's time I came up with a few.

Your turn: So, what can we learn from the environmental disaster in the Gulf of Mexico? Will we ever learn?

No Vacancy

Look for the sign
Williamsburg, KY, January 2009

This burg hard alongside Interstate 75 in the mountains of Kentucky has been good to us. Thanks to various factors - namely our van's rather phenomenal fuel economy on long trips, our children's ability to emulate the camel and our willingness to bypass the big towns in favor of the small, sometimes-forgotten ones - we've stopped here a number of times on our way to/from Florida*.

This motel has always made me ponder. In a country where chains of everything from convenience stores to gas stations to restaurants are wiping family-owned businesses off the map, places like this that wear their family-owned history with pride tend to stand out a bit. There's a certain defiance associated with bucking the trend toward anonymous towns that look like all other anonymous towns, and I find myself smiling as I zoom across space and capture this newly renovated sign that hovers over its newly renovated building. Maybe there's hope, yet.

Your turn: What do we lose when unique businesses give way to chain-owned ones?

* See here, here and here for more photos from this place.

Scene from a hospital

So what is it, then?
Montreal, QC, September 2009

The scene: We were on our way out of the hospital after visiting Debbie's mom. It had been two days since my father's funeral - seven months later, it still hurts to write those words - and between his loss and her mom's illness, we were feeling a little more shellshocked than usual.

There's a long hallway on the ground floor that leads from the dingy-looking elevators to the exit. It's the same concrete block-walled, pipe-lined-ceiling hallway I traversed as a kid when I ended my own tours of duty here, so I always walk it just a little more slowly, to drink in the echoes a place that's imprinted itself in so many ways on me and my family.

We're here so often that I try to notice what's changed from one visit to the next. On this particular walk-through, I notice one of the laser printers in an adjacent clinic has been working overtime. The windows are now festooned with bureaucratically-structured messages, all seemingly designed to remind patients when they should show up, what they should bring, and what they can and cannot do while they're waiting.

And this sign, which stopped all of us dead in our tracks and made us wonder just what they were thinking. Sometimes, laptops and laser printers really should be taken away from those who haven't a clue.

Your turn: So what is this sign all about, anyway?

No coffee for you

Must be a tea drinker
Toronto, ON, December 2009

I deliberately avoid congested downtown streets for a number of reasons: Namely, I don't live or work near one, I get hives when I'm surrounded by too many people (yes, I'm antisocial that way) and the noise and icky air tend to darken my mood. But every once in a while, the regular demands of life dictate a trip to the very epicenter of urbanity, and when I do, I figure a camera is a worthwhile thing to have in my hand.

As often happens when I'm out of my natural element, I bump into moments worth recording. I almost stopped myself from grabbing this one because, as a general rule, I don't shoot strangers. I don't want to worry about potentially ticking them off, or worse, having them chase me down the street because I caught them doing something they really shouldn't have been doing. People are messy. Animals and inanimate objects are so much easier.

Still, this little moment of drama struck me as too rich to pass up. I felt kinda sorry for the poor guy trying to make a living delivering coffee supplies to nearby businesses. I also felt kinda sorry for this officer whose daily responsibility encompasses delivering one slip of misery after another to complete strangers.

I wonder if the subject of my photo unwound with a cup of java when he got off shift.

Your turn: I haven't done a Caption This in a while (hmm...) but I'm wondering if you have any suggestions for this pic.

One more thing: I wrote this while sitting on the large rock under the maple tree on my front lawn. It's 9:21 p.m., and as the last of the day's light ebbs out of the now-darkened sky, I swear every last neighbor who's walked or driven past while I've been tapping away in the glow of my netbook thinks I'm certifiably insane. I guess my being-different gene remains active.

Thematic Photographic returns soon

Thanks to everyone who has commented about the recent lack of Thematic Photographic. I put this weekly photo feature on hiatus a few weeks ago to give myself and you, my readers and blog community, a bit of a break from the routine.

Since then, I've received a steady stream comments, IMs and e-mails asking when Thematic Photographic will return. My answer: Wednesday, May 5.

The new theme will be "spring has sprung." Now that the season of renewal is well underway, I feel it's time to dive back in, and I can't wait to see what y'all come up with.

Sun's so bright...

...I gotta wear shades
London, ON, November 2009

The scene: We're driving the kids home from school. My wife's at the wheel and I'm beside her. I'm fiddling with my camera because I'm in a bit of a funk and I need to occupy my mind and my hands. As we turn the corner and head west, the late afternoon winter sun almost blinds us all.

We're Canadian, so we should be used to this kind of thing by now. And to a large extent we are. But we've all got either green or blue eyes, and given our inherent sensitivity to light, we don't particularly appreciate the optical equivalent of a blowtorch.

I raise the camera and try to capture the moment as best I can (manual, as massively underexposed as the camera will allow.) I'm sharing the result not because it's a particularly great picture - it isn't - but because I don't want to forget what it's like to experience the day-to-day with my family. On this day, we were still in the shellshocked phase of early grief, and we grabbed at any snippet of normalcy. Sometimes, it comes in forms we can't anticipate.

Your turn: How does bright light make you feel? Why?

HP buys Palm. Mobile wars continue.

So the big tech news of the day is that HP (aka Hewlett-Packard, the
leading maker of PCs) has bought embattled smartphone vendor Palm. The
$1.2 billion deal is expected to close in July, and it ends another
chapter in the life of the company that popularized the PDA, defined
the smartphone and subsequently faded into near-irrelevance.

(Seriously, I've lost count of how many ownership changes,
restructurings and rebrandings Palm has gone through. This must be
some sort of record.)

It'll be a slice of poetic karma - or is it karmic poetry? - if HP
manages to turn Palm back into a competitive player in this
increasingly treacherous market sector. Mobile isn't for the weak of
stomach, but HP, looking for opportunities beyond its core businesses,
didn't have much choice. We won't be buying PCs forever, so any
desktop/laptop/server vendor that isn't pushing a mobile strategy is
asking for trouble. Good on HP for recognizing the need now.

We live in interesting times, don't we?

Your turn: What kinda cell/smartphone do you carry? Why did you choose
that particular one?

--
Sent from my mobile device

Bad cereal!

I often use Twitter to muse about the uber-trivial things that often creep into my head. Yesterday was no different, as I was shepherding my brood home from a faraway place and found myself reaching for the BlackBerry during rest stops. I like the small break from the ordinary that a little bit of wordplay can offer.

So as the trip drew to a close, I tweeted this: Cereal mispellings bug me. Rice Krispies? Froot Loops? Is this the best way to start the day?

Said tweet, through the magic of social media, automatically became a Facebook status update (see here for my home page. It's too early in the day for me to figure out unique URLs of status updates.) Which then touched off a discussion among my readers. So I thought I'd bring it over here, too. Because I'm manic like that.

So, my point is that language is being eroded by deliberate misspellings like this. I recognize that language is under attack on a number of fronts - including the very tools like Twitter and texting that I use to keep in touch while I'm on the run - but there's something particularly galling when it's a major company playing fast and loose with the rules of spelling, grammar and clear communication.

Your turn: Got an example of deliberate misspelling? Does this bug you? Why/why not?

Off the grid? Or on?

Power to the people
Toronto, ON, December 2009

Every waking moment of every day presents us with two possible paths. Either we choose to follow the herd and accept the endlessly routine sameness of the world around us. Or we choose to look for the wonder within all that sameness. I like to think of it as forming our own herd. I also like to focus on the concept of choice. All of us have it, but sadly not all of us exercise it with any degree of frequency. Pity that.

As my wife has so painfully learned over the years, I'm a choose-the-wonder kind of guy. This likely explains how, when I arrived for a video shoot a bit earlier than expected, I found myself in a downtown Toronto back alley staring at a questionably connected set of wires. Not that I'm an expert in any of this, of course, but I still felt more than a little chilled at the haphazard look of it all.

My fears aside, I thought it made for a pretty neat composition as the late-winter's-afternoon light cast long shadows that threw the moment into stark relief. Not everything needs an answer, after all. Sometimes, I think it's worth shooting simply because it looks neat.

Your turn: What's behind the building that you're currently in?

House of smut

Gentle what?
Brantford, ON, March 2009

You can't help but smile at the irony of the name attached to this dimly lit, run-down building hard by the tracks that houses a business that many would define as questionable. I've met many gentlemen in my life, and I'm willing to bet few, if any, of them would darken the doorway of a place like this.

But who am I to judge others' language choices? Folks who choose this line of work toss around words like "classy" and "discreet" as well, and no one seems to pay them much notice.

Still, when these "establishments" close up shop for good, few of us lament their passing. And as my train pulls out of the station, I'm perfectly content to leave this one behind as well.

Your turn: Oxymoronic language on signs. Please discuss.

The Big Cat

Mud fight
London, ON, July 2009

I have a strange philosophy of photography: Absolutely every scene, even the ones that are beyond forgettable, contains at least one picture worth remembering.

So when I saw this tractor sitting in the middle of a horridly in-progress construction site, I decided the side profile - with its chunky, mud-covered tread and yellow steel hub - was kinda fun.

My wife disagreed, because getting this picture required a trek across said muddy site. She was not pleased that I returned with filthy shoes. Sometimes, photographers have to suffer for their wannabe-art. Sometimes, their wives suffer, too.

Your turn: Places other folks would write off - but you wouldn't. (I'll start: cafeterias, run-down K-Mart stores...) Please discuss.

Looking for Dino Flintstone

And we thought they were extinct
London, ON, February 2010

I've discovered that animal crackers aren't for kids after all. Sure, the packaging suggests they're as kid-exclusive as the Family Channel (ha!) and Fruit Rollups (not fruit and not edible), but a cursory glance down the cracker aisle on a recent Sunday afternoon revealed adults with no kids in sight stashing bags of crackerfied animals into grocery carts stuffed with salad fixins, pasta, balsamic vinegar and other decidedly non-kid fare.

They weren't fooling anyone: The only kids destined to eat these crackers were the overgrown ones trying not to look guilty as they sidled up to the checkout aisle.

I admit I'm one of them. I bring them home because I know our munchkins stay away from them - animal lovers, perhaps? - and if I keep a couple of bags in the shadows at the back of the pantry, edible salvation will always be an arm's reach away when I'm looking to both fill my tummy and inspire my somewhat off-kilter brain. I'm just that shallow.

Your turn: I rather prefer the dinosaur-themed crackers, as I don't feel the same degree of guilt eating them as I would, say, with zoo or farm animals. Are you a secret animal cracker eater? Why/why not?

Incomplete...

Nailed to the wall
London, ON, February 2009

Just over a year ago, I was privileged to have my work exhibited by a local studio. It was a surreal experience to see my photos printed, matted and hung in a space specifically designed, from the paint to the lighting to the layout, for art.

I had never before thought of photography - nay, my photography - as art. But seeing and even feeling them on the wall made me realize that whatever we create can have a very real impact on those who experience it. I guess I had been sharing my work virtually for so long that it was easy to miss the real meaning of it all: It took the tangible act of printing, preparing and mounting everything to drive that message home.

When the show was over and I was finished taking the last one down, I stopped beside this one nail and stared at it for a good long while. On the one hand, I was somewhat saddened that it was all over. The experience was a thrill - made even more meaningful by the fact that I got to share it with my wife and kids and our friends from the community. I got to see my parents experience my work in a way they never had previously, and I'd like to think that my dad got an especially satisfying jolt of pride that his kid followed his voice and created something neat. I'll never know, of course, but the mere thought is a comfort.

Staring at the photo of the nail today, I'm reminded that the process of exploring, capturing, learning and sharing is a never-ending one. And as long as I am able, I'll heft my camera in my hand and head out on new adventures. And perhaps soon I'll find another nail much like this one, and I'll be lucky enough to once again hang something tangible on it for a whole new audience.

Your turn: What should be hung here?

Every day should be Earth Day

Different forms of pollution
London, ON
February 2009

On a bitterly cold, brilliantly sunny afternoon, I found myself standing under this rather interesting convergence of human-caused atmospheric phenomena. As I look back at this photo today, I find myself thinking that the concept of Earth Day may not be ambitious enough to fix whatever's broken in this frame.

Don't get me wrong: Earth Day is a great initiative and a wonderful way to raise awareness. I know that the yearly celebrations and activities at school have helped our kids become much more environmentally aware and sensitive than we ever were at their age.

But it's only a day. For most of us, the other 364 days of the year are business as usual. We go about our business, driving when we should walk, lighting when we can function just as well with less light, heating when we can pull on a sweater.

In my lifetime, I've watched Earth Day go from a faddish, feel-good event for publicity-seeking celebs to yesterday's news and, finally, back to a moment of relevance for our kids. I'm wondering what it'll take to make the next leap to everyday awareness. And action. I'd like to think that this kind of progress lies within our generation's grasp.

Your turn: How will you celebrate Earth Day? How will you celebrate the day after Earth Day?

Lesson from a four-legged friend

I've decided I rather like having a dog to come home to. Although my wife and kids are usually pretty consistent about hellos and goodbyes - my wife believes in making these moments special - there are times when the only greeter at the door has four legs and a soggy Schnauzer beard. When everyone in the house is too busy to get to the door, I can always count on our silver-furred hellion to attack the door until I can get it open. In the truest guard dog tradition, he'll bark and howl until he realizes it's me. Then he'll bore in, nubbin-of-a-tail wagging madly as he buries his head in my chest and snorts repeatedly.

I'm not quite sure what he hopes to accomplish in the process. I can hear all manner of sniffing going on, and all I can come up with is he's following his instinctive hunting dog's DNA as he tries to figure out where I've been, what I've done and who I've done it with.

Before long, I'll have to get on the floor because that just seems to make it so much easier to enjoy this wiggling ball of fur. It's always the same, and it never gets old. I think it's the unconditional nature of it all that makes moments like this worth holding on to. He'll be there, drooling and happy, no matter what kind of day he or I had. He doesn't temper his excitement for anything - the world revolves around the two of us for those few first moments on reconnectedness. He's happy simply because we're together.

I keep thinking there's a lesson here, and all I need to do is listen to him a little more closely. I think I need to be a little more like him - unconditional, in the moment, simply happy to be together, and to simply be - whoever I'm with.

Good dog, isn't he?

Tanks for the memory

Please don't explode
London, ON, March 2010

I've been surveying the new-to-me neighborhood where I now work, and I've been coming across some rather fascinating things. To wit, there's a petroleum tank farm located not a 10-minute walk from the front door. Although I'm not allowed inside - gee, I wonder why - it's still a fairly cool place to observe from the outside.

In our post-9/11 world, however, I suspect a stranger with a camera wandering around the street just outside the front gate isn't exactly the most welcome kind of visitor. Indeed, I'm rather certain my initial photo shoot has now been immortalized on some grainy black-and-white security video.

When I eventually find my name on the no-fly list, at least I'll know why.

Your turn: If these things didn't have to hold gasoline, diesel and other forms of dead dinosaurs, what would you want them to hold? Feel free to be as creative as you wish.

Gordon Lightfoot is still alive

I've been somewhat remiss about tracking my media work of late*, but I came across this particularly fun link from a couple of months back (Feb. 18, actually) that I wanted to share.

It's from an interview I did with CTV News Channel's Marcia MacMillan This time out, we spoke about the Twitter-started rumor that erroneously spread "news" that Canadian singing legend Gordon Lightfoot - his most famous tune is arguably The Wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald - had died.

Imagine Mr. Lightfoot's surprise upon hearing this on the radio as he drove home from a dentist's appointment. He was very much still with us, and called a national radio program to share this happy news with the country.

The incident raised all sorts of questions about the impact of social media on the news gathering and dissemination process, and the fact that without checks and balances, it's only a matter of time before this kind of thing happens again. And again. And...

The interview's here. Other televised hits can be found here, here and here.

Your turn: The dangers of Twitter, Facebook and other tools of social media. Please discuss.

* If you've just joined us, I lead a bit of a double life beyond my 9-to-5 career path as a data management guy. Long ago, I became a journalist by education, then an analyst almost by accident. Like Superman, who often uses fast-disappearing phone booths to switch into his alter-ego, I occasionally find myself switching gears into media-commentator-analyst mode as the sun sets (or rises...those early morning hits are fun.) Journalists, producers and editors from various print and electronic media often call me to talk about why a particular tech/business/culture story matters. It's resulted in some fun adventures along the way.