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HomeMy WebLinkAboutThe Citizen, 2013-08-15, Page 5THE CITIZEN, THURSDAY, AUGUST 15, 2013. PAGE 5. “You put your right foot in; you put your right foot out. You put your right foot in and you shake it all about.” Canada has officially been a metric nation for more than forty years. I still don’t get it. I continue to think in inches, feet and yards; I feel in Fahrenheit. A beautiful day is 75 and sunny; a miserable one is ten below with driving snow. I’m partially converted. I recognize a metre as a yard-and-a-bit; a kilometre is half a mile, give or take. I wouldn’t know a hectare from the Higgs Boson particle. But it’s not just reactionary codgerism at work here. I’m a writer. Words excite me and the metric system is as mind grindingly boring as Harper stump speech. Our old tried-and-true system had cables, rods, fathoms, gills, pecks and acres. In metric, ‘gram’ is a racy outlier; everything else is milli, centi or kilo something. Accurate, yes. But hardly the stuff that poems are made of: Two-point-eight kilometres, two-point-eight kilometres, two-point-kilometres onward. Into the valley of death, rode the six hundred. Or perhaps what Shakespeare really meant when he wrote “Full fathom five, your father lies; his bones of coral made” was: Full nine-point-one-five metres your father lies…. Why, my right foot contains more lyricism than the entire metric system. I can have itchy feet, feet of clay, one foot in the grave or two left feet. I can get off on the right foot or be caught with my foot in my mouth. I can put my best foot forward or shoot myself in the foot. I might choose to put my foot down to take charge, put my feet up to relax, put my foot in the door or wait on someone hand and foot. Or I can be a heel. Or cool my heels as I wait for the bus, dig in my heels to be obstinate, bring somebody to heel who’s giving me grief or even expose my nautical Achilles heel by allowing my sailboat to heel over in a squall. One of my favourite activities: to go outside on a clear night and watch the stars dance heel and toe. Which brings us to the other pedal extremities – the toes. To stay on one’s toes means to look sharp; to tread on someone’s toes means to interfere with someone. On the other hand if I toe the line, I’m minding my manners. Not to mention putting my best foot forward. Yessir, those boney flippers attached to your ankles are a treasure trove of linguistic possibilities. You think the metric system has anything comparable to offer? My foot it does. Arthur Black Other Views Standing on our own two feet The level of municipal services in Huron East has surfaced once again with councillors demanding a meeting this fall, perhaps as early as October. The issue was first raised after budget deliberations last year when Councillor Larry McGrath came to the budget table armed with a holster full of reality, telling councillors that between depleting reserves and attempting to not raise taxes, there is simply a finite amount of money from which Huron East can draw. This led to the inevitable “level of service” debate, which is being held all over the world these days, better known as strategic planning. McGrath, along with Huron East Mayor Bernie MacLellan, said that the municipality simply can’t continue to offer all of the services under the sun, while not increasing taxes at the same time. Huron East boasts some of the lowest taxes in Huron County, a region known for its low cost of living, and corresponding low wages. McGrath had put the issue on the table before, saying perhaps there needs to be a year every five or 10 where all roadwork in the municipality is halted in order to save money for the future. As the downloading of bridges from Huron County to Huron East has continued, MacLellan has reignited the debate, saying that in future decades, as bridges and culverts that don’t see much traffic continue to decay, there may come a time that they simply don’t get repaired, because it doesn’t make sense to spend hundreds of thousands of dollars repairing a course travelled only a handful of times a day. The debate is akin to the one that was had just a few months ago when a factory in Bangladesh collapsed, killing 1,100 workers making clothes for Joe Fresh and Walmart, among others. Westerners who heard the story were appalled by the death and destruction. They couldn’t believe the conditions under which the workers had to operate and the pittance the workers were getting paid. There is, however, only so much money to go around. So when people want to get paid a lot of money to do what they do, and they feel everyone else should get paid a lot of money for whatever they do, but everyone wants to pay next to nothing for everything, the system is destined to break down. There is no way a system like that can sustain itself. The fact that cheap clothes and goods started showing up decades ago came alongside a lack of questions and an increase in workshops shipping overseas. It simply doesn’t make sense to pay as little as we do for some of the things we buy. The same debate applies to municipal governance. When people want to pay little or no taxes, predictably, services are destined to decline. Having sat through as many years of budget deliberations as I have, I have realized that there is only so much money to go around and that small municipalities like Huron East aren’t the money factories some people see them as. Expenses are painstakingly debated with councillors applying their best knowledge to situations. There will always be missteps and there will always be hindsight, but in most cases, the old adage that “you get what you pay for” holds true not only in retail, but in life. So when councillors have to start making tough decisions about what their municipality is going to offer, it’s a sign of the times, because low taxes and unlimited services just don’t add up on the bottom line. Everything to everyone Shawn Loughlin Shawn’s Sense My vacations, since graduation about five years ago, have always involved a lot of the same thing; explaining what life is really like when you exit the four- line highways and drive an hour or two on a two-lane highway to my friends from Toronto, Guelph, Kitchener, Cambridge and beyond. Sure, they visit cottages both north and south and admire the natural world, the world without light and noise pollution, the world where there are more fields than apartment buildings and offices rarely climb higher than two stories, but they really have no idea what life here is really like and, despite being the verbose individual I am, I often have a hard- time finding any words that describe it. My friends know Blyth exists, they know I love it here and would trade significant biological portions of my body instead of facing the reality of leaving. They know that, despite the fact I can’t explain why, I believe living in a town with no stoplights is magnificent. They just don’t get why I find villages like Blyth, Brussels, Belgrave, Walton, Londesborough and Auburn so endearing despite having been here a few times (an event I hope to repeat numerous times in the both near and distant future). However, had they never visited, never saw the big “Welcome to Blyth” or “Huron’s West Coast” signs, I could understand if some of my favourite stories would seem a bit farfetched to them. When my fiancée Ashleigh, who currently works in Mississauga and lives in Brampton, speaks fondly of my home and the surrounding communities, she is questioned on the validity of her stories. That, however, won’t happen anymore. While I did spend some of my vacation, as I previously stated, at my cottage enjoying the quiet sounds of nature, the pristine waters of Lake Huron and the feeling of sitting at a table playing cards (because, much to my delight, the internet went out due to a lightning storm and there was nothing better to do than play a game of Yahtzee! or Mexican Rummy) I also spent a few days visiting Brampton. I had brought a copy of The Citizen with me for the trip because, unlike my editor, I don’t see every story before it makes it to the pages of the local newspaper and I do enjoy reading his editorial as well as the news from around the communities. However, after I had arrived and read the paper, it disappeared. Apparently it had made it to Ashleigh’s office to dispel the myth that Blyth didn’t exist. Fortunately (or maybe unfortunately for Reeve Neil Vincent), the issue I had was the last one we had put out prior to our vacation and featured, prominently, several things. Primarily, it featured a picture of Vincent making kissy-faces with the rear-end of a pig. Secondly, it featured the story about why he was making kissy-faces with that pig’s derriere, lastly, it contained the story of Campaign 14/19 and the grand plans that accompany it. At first I was dumbstruck that, to prove the existence of the haven of Huron County, she had chosen the most stereotypically small- town thing you could; a pig-kissing contest. The only thing that could have been more damning as far as stereotypes goes would have been a cow-tipping contest portrayed prominently on the front page. However, upon reflection, I realized that issue of the paper, which showed the dedication to fundraising for the Blyth Business Improvement Area (BIA) by kissing a pig alongside the plans to create a cultural Mecca in Huron County, showed exactly why I find Blyth to be such a fantastic place to be. Sure, if someone wanted to be crass or look to the lowest common denominator, they could look at that photo and take it as a signifier that there is more than a little red in our necks in Huron, but if they dug deeper, they would see that reluctant kissing scene between Vincent and the pig was one of dedication to the growth and continued prosperity of North Huron and Huron County. Add that to the massive story on the possible future of Blyth via 14/19, and I think any reader would see that North Huron, Blyth and Huron County are all doing something that BIA chair and local business owner Rick Elliott said we do; we hit above our weight class. That issue of the newspaper, (like every issue, I hope), shows that, even when we’re having fun and laughing and kissing pigs, the residents of North Huron are looking ahead and coming together to continue the growth that has been happening in the past few years. I’ve seen Blyth’s downtown go from having numerous empty stores to having thriving new businesses existing alongside long-standing businesses in the community. That issue showed a little of the past, a little of the present and a lot of the future and I probably couldn’t have picked a better one to serve as a glimpse into the small-town life here. If the existence of northern Huron County had to be proved to some city slickers, it was the best print ambassador that could have been chosen. And if all they take away is that one of our reeves kissed a pig’s south end... well at least they know we exist. Denny Scott Denny’s Den Explaining what Huron is all about Letter THE EDITOR, Wow – We asked for support and the North Huron area always “steps up to the plate”. We are delighted with the ongoing donations to the Food Share over the summer months. With holidays, no school, fewer church services, it’s easy to forget that the Food Share never takes a holiday. In fact we find over the summer, our need even increases. We recently had the opportunity to have a “by donation” barbecue in conjunction with the Laundry Room’s free laundry day. We were overjoyed to have taken in almost $500 in donations that day. All the wieners, buns and condiments were donated and anything left over was taken back to the Food Share to give to our clients. A big “Thank You” to Doug and Trish Trenter who invited us to be part of their free laundry day. We understand that they processed over 450 free loads of clothes on Monday, Aug. 5. We also need to pass on a “Thank You” to Bill and Kathy Gibson who are looking after the community garden behind Libro. Apparently this is how a garden should actually look. We are starting to get produce from the garden every Tuesday night so that we can make it available to our clients Wednesday morning when the Food Share is Food Share works through summer Continued on page 6