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The Citizen, 2016-10-06, Page 5THE CITIZEN, THURSDAY, OCTOBER 6, 2016. PAGE 5. Other Views Pocket or purse? It all depends It took a lot of years but I've finally figured out the difference between men and women. It's not X versus Y chromosomes, or voluptuous bazooms versus hairy pecs. Forget bigger biceps, smaller Adam's apples or the ability to pee standing up. The difference between men and women is.... Pockets. Men got 'em; women didn't. Simple as that. You never hear anthropologists or sociologists talk about it, but pockets represent an evolutionary cartwheel right up there with roller derby and unisex haircuts. Odd fact: up until about 600 years ago, nobody had pockets. Right up until medieval times everybody — both men and women — carried their junk around in pieces of cloth which they secured with a drawstring and threw over their shoulders or tucked in their belts. Along about the time da Vinci was trying to get Mona Lisa's smile just right, some innovator got the bright idea of tucking his bag of valuables into his codpiece, which was a flap of cloth at the front of men's trousers which covered the er, groinal area. As unlikely — and uncomfortable — as it sounds, the codpiece stash took off, fashion - wise. Everything a medieval man -about -town held dear — money, keys, rings, spectacles, snuff boxes — went into the codpiece for safe- keeping, thus initiating a few centuries's worth of lame jokes about `family jewels'. Pockets began to appear in the late 1500s. 011140 Arthur Black The first ones were mere slits in a side seam of men's trousers, but that didn't work too well, even with tight -fitting pantaloons, what with cash and other sundries cascading down the pant leg. Finally some genius came up with the idea of sewing a pouch right into the trousers. Bingo. The pocket was born. But only for men. Womens' fashion didn't pick up on codpieces or their evolutionary manifestation, the pocket. Ladies were condemned to lug around handbags instead. Why? Vanity played a role. Lack of pockets gave womens' garb a more `streamlined' silhouette which is admittedly, easier on the eye. Whereas men don't mind looking like a walking bag of walnuts. The trend continues. Think of the Trump/Clinton `debates' (I use the word loosely). Hillary looked svelte and cool in her pant suit, but if you looked closely — no pockets. Whereas I'm pretty sure Trump's suit jacket alone featured at least five pockets — two outside, two inside and a vest pocket over the area where his heart should have been. Down through the years there have been sporadic attempts to encourage men to carry their stuff in bags instead of pockets. Theoretically, it makes a lot of sense. Guys have got a lot to haul around these days — ball point pens, a pocket knife, money, ID, credit cards, medication, a Starbucks frequent flyer card — not to mention tablets, the ubiquitous cell phone and the charger. But somehow mankind has resisted and the man -purse (or 'murse') never really took off. Personally, I think men are too woolly-headed to manage a handbag. Women have been packing purses for a few centuries now but we'd be new to the game of handbag management and men tend to be absent- minded and easily distracted. We'd always be leaving the bag behind in taxis or bar rooms. Me? I've got two man -purses, one leather, the other canvas. They both reside at the back of my closet. Permanently. Turns out that when the chips are down and there's stuff to be toted, I'm a pocket, not a purse guy. When you think of it, where would we be without the pocket? It gave us a great, if diminutive, hockey player — Henri Richard, AKA The Pocket Rocket. Also pocket watches, pocket squares, pocket books — why, the humble pocket can even improve your love life. If you don't believe me, ask Rodney Dangerfield. He's the guy who said, "If it wasn't for pickpockets I'd have no sex life at all" Getting back to purity of the game 'm not a huge fan of the changes to hockey over the past decades that have turned the sport into something unrecognizable from when I was a player. Between the changes to the sport's rules taking out some of its hard-hitting nature to bigger goalie pads, the game scarcely resembles what I grew up playing. Watching younger players in the National Hockey League and players in the Ontario Hockey League is the perfect way to illustrate exactly what I'm talking about; players aren't just avoiding the big hits, they're shying away from good -quality, mid -ice hits that would stop a play. I'm not saying players should be out for blood or hoping to break bones or cause some severe damage but hockey, at its core, includes hitting as a way to stop a player mid - action and, in my mind, there's a reason for that. The game includes pads to mitigate damage from the hits, a wooden, aluminum or graphite (or any number of other materials) sticks and skates — a legal, shoulder -to - opponent hit is likely one of the safest ways to stop a play. The fans of the sport have also changed in my mind. It used to be that you would go to a game and fmd yourself sitting beside people who were similarly interested in taking in the sport. Now -a -days, especially with some teams, inclusive of the Toronto Maple Leafs, tickets are incredibly expensive and being at a game is more of a status symbol than something to be done for enjoyment. For many Canadian fans, it's easier and cheaper to go south of the border where the game isn't quite as popular. Recently, however, I had my hockey spirit, for lack of a better term, renewed. My father, through a fortuitous turn of events, scored two tickets to what turned out to be the final game in the World Cup of Hockey held in Toronto. The event isn't exactly once-in-a-lifetime, especially with promises of it becoming a Denny Scott Denny's Den once -ever -four-year events, however the tickets my dad got definitely made it a once-in- a-lifetime event for me. We were in the seventh row, directly across from Team Canada's entryway to the ice and, thanks to a walkway right underneath us, there was no one sitting between us and the glass — we had a completely unobstructed view of the game for the most part. The game featured players of all ages from the National Hockey League which made for some big hits, some big plays and a lot of great experiences (at least in the last five minutes, since Team Canada was kind of dogging it up until that point). Canada won 2-1 after two very quick goals at the end of the game (one of which was shorthanded, which should put to rest any question about what country truly rules hockey). The game was held at the Air Canada Centre (ACC), which is where the Toronto Maple Leafs regularly play their home games and, after experiencing seats so close to the action, I understand why people are willing to pay a good deal of money for that chance — it's an experience quite unlike any hockey game I've taken in. Each section has its own sales person who will take your orders for food and beverages and deliver them to your seats. There's also a concierge who makes sure that people who aren't sitting in the area don't sneak in to stand against the glass when the game is on. It became pretty clear that this wasn't like the hockey games I had attended in Buffalo when I was young. Maybe it was because the game was an unknown (when people purchased tickets, they wouldn't know Team Canada was playing) or maybe it's because tickets were a little easier to get, but it seemed like everyone in the arena was there because of the sport, and not because of how important it was to be seen. With the exception of one guy sitting behind my father more interested in food than the game and the two young philosophers debating the truth of life to my right, the arena was a sea of hockey jerseys — people who were cheering for their favourite players and for Team Canada. For that one game, everyone there was a fan of Team Canada, forgetting the rivalries of professional teams to cheer our team on to victory. It wasn't until the end of the third period, however, that it really struck me how collective an experience the game can be, even for those who don't seem to be interested. A tip -in power -play goal by Patrice Bergeron tied the game for Team Canada which saw energy return to the team and the fans, however that energy was quickly tempered due to a penalty against Canada. Salvation came for the team and fans, however, after a game of listless wandering for most of the team really came from someone who shoulders a lot of hate from fans: the Boston Bruins' Brad Marchand. By scoring a short-handed goal in the last minute of the game, Marchand went from a maligned player to the hero of the day and clinched the win. The arena erupted with cheer that didn't seem to end and Team Canada proved beyond a shadow of a doubt that hockey is our game. In that moment, the game of hockey was renewed for me. Sure, I still long for a big hit every once in awhile to break up the soccer - like games of long passes, but being at the ACC and experiencing that reversal of fortunes reminded me what hockey is really about: the communal experience the sport can bring. Shawn ,rV Loughlin Shawn's Sense 'The Rural Voice' We all tell stories every day. Whether it's something funny that happened over the weekend, or something you heard and simply have to pass on, the world is comprised of storytellers. So it was with this in mind that I served as a panelist last week at the Rural Talks to Rural (R2R) conference — the brainchild of the Canadian Centre for Rural Creativity. My charge was a panel called "The Rural Voice". Aside from The Rural Voice being the name of a magazine produced in the very building in which I sit, the panel focused on the telling of rural stories. How do we tell them? Why do we tell them? Who are we telling them to? And are we doing a good job in telling our stories? Some of those issues are easier to explore than others. And, while at first I wondered where exactly I'd fit, I was a surprisingly popular target for questions and talking points, even sitting alongside Blyth Festival Artistic Director Gil Garratt, a documentary filmmaker from Stratford and a knowledge mobilization manager from Newfoundland, but originally from Croatia, who could maybe be the next Dos Equis "Most Interesting Man in the World". The idea of "The Rural Voice" in many ways is as simple as it gets — it's people telling stories from their communities. In a global world, the audience matters almost as much as the message. Who is going to hear this story? How will it be received? Will an urban reader care about a rural issue? Maybe, maybe not. It's not that rural stories don't necessarily matter to urban audiences, but there is also a comfortable narrative that many urban audiences have chosen to accept. Whether it's funny, or quaint, a farmer in a plaid shirt and rubber boots is comfortable for an urban audience and as Mark Twain said, "never let the truth get in the way of a good story." An example often used by my fellow panelist Bojan Furst was the show Cold Water Cowboys, which makes Newfoundland commercial fishing look like the wild west, when it fact, very few things could be more boring. But it's good for television, so the story is then told that way, not the true way. Those conversations were interesting, but it was the conversations about The Citizen and the stories it tells that really brought things down to a grassroots level. Being a newspaper owned by community shareholders, The Citizen is imbedded in its community. Not because there's an office here or because the people who work here shop locally — but because we're part of the community and we tell stories people want to hear. There is no ivory tower in The Citizen's office from which the editorial staff sits and dictates stories down to the people. We don't tell you why you should care about something — you tell us why we should care about something and then we bring that story to the rest of the community. So when I was asked about my role in rural storytelling, that's what I said. For me, for us at The Citizen, it's about connecting to the community and holding a mirror up to our neighbours so they can see their stories told. The rural stories we tell are only as good as our community allows them to be and we're blessed with a fabulous community. During the discussion, I received wonderful feedback from readers and encouraging feedback from visitors who wish they had a Citizen to call their own. Thanks for letting us tell your stories and become the envy of other rural communities.