HomeMy WebLinkAboutThe Brussels Post, 1979-12-05, Page 2BRUSSELS
ONTARIO
WEDNESDAY, DECEMBER 5, 1979
Serving Brussels and the surrounding community.
Published each Wednesday afternoon at Brussels, Ontario
By McLean Bros. Publishers Limited
Evelyn Kennedy - Editor Pat Langlois - Advertising
BLUE
RIBBON
AWARD
1979
Member Canadian Community Newspaper Association and
Ontario Weekly Newspaper Association
Subscriptions (in advance) Canada $10.00 a Year.
Others $20.00 a Year. Single Copies 25 cents each.
4Brussels Post
WHEE!—Brussels youngsters greeted the first real snowfall of the year
with delight and found this hill by the Maitland River to be just perfect
for their sledding activities on Saturday. (Brussels Post Photo)
Now change, weather
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With the departure recently of Pierre
Trudeau and the attempts to assess his
record as Prime Minister we look again at
how history judges our leaders.
Any attempt to judge the effect Pierre
Trudeau has had on Canada at this point in
time is ridiculous. We need time to distance
ourselves from the emotions of the moment.
Trudeau supporters, saddened by his deci-
sion to retire, may over value his contribu-
tions. Trudeau haters no doubt undervalue
what he has done for the country.
We have only to look back in history to see
how time can change the perspective of
leaders. Today the record looks favourably
on our first prime minister Sir John A.
MacDonald. Yet during his long tenure in
office MacDonald was always at the eye of a
storm of controversy. The controversy, of
course, hit its peak with the Pacific Scandal.
During those days of tumult he was accused
of political corruption, was turfed out by the
voters, then reinstated. He was often so
'runk he could hardly stand to deliver his
speeches in Parliament.
If we had such a leader today, he wouldn't
last a full term in office. Under the glare of
our moment-by-moment media examination
when a few beads of perspiration on a
forehead can effect a career of a politician,
someone like MacDonald would probably
alienate the press and public in short order.
And yet, looking back nearly a century
later we see him as a great, if flawed, leader.
The second giant among our prime
ministers Sir Wilfred Laurier also lived
through turbulent times. There were English
versus French problems in those day4 too.
There were long debates over free trade with
the U.S. There were arguments over
Canada's role in the British Empire. He was
eventually defeated by the people. They no
longer considered him good enough to lead
the country. Yet today he's considered right
up there with Sir John in stature.
There is a tendancy in trying to assess the
importance of a leader to look at the record
of the legislation he brought in. Legislation,
of course, is one of the important things a
leader leaves behind. But there is something
harder to judge but ultimately more impor
tant that is left behind by a leader. The
power of the top job in any country gives a
person ways to effect his nation more
subtley. Aside from MacDonald's building
of the Canadian Pacific Railway there is little
else that most people can remember him
doing. Yet he left his stamp on the country
simply by his passionate belief in one
Canada reaching from sea to sea. Similarly
Laurier's legislative record is unknown to most
of us, yet he left a mark on the country that
can not be really measured. For one thing he
showed English speaking Canadians that the
French weren't just dumb habitants but
eloquent, effective leaders. He showed
French Canadians that they could be leaders
in the country, not just the servants of the
English.
Elswehere in the world, how many people
remember what Winston Churchill did in
Parliament. What they remember of the man
is ability to sell the British people on their
own will to survive and persevere in the
worst of the the trials of the Second World
War.
Compare the legislative records of John F.
Kennedy and Lyndon Johnston and Johnst-
ton is probably more impressive. Yet
Americans and people around the world tend
to hold Kennedy as a great leader while
Johnston they would rather forget (and
perhaps already have). This feeling is helped
perhaps by the assassination of Kennedy but
more so by the style he gave the country, the
spirit of excitment that surrounded his term
in office.
Likewise close as we are to the events it's
difficult to see who history will record as the
better leader, John Diefenbakr— with his
aura of vision, his ability to excite people or
dull old Mike Pearson who couldn't excite
anybody but who in his turbulent days as
Prime. Minister passed a good deal of
progressive legislation.
And of course we come to Pierre Trudeau,
the mystery man, the man beloved and
detested. What will be his legacy to his
country? There is no doubt what he wanted
to leave his country when he moved on. He
wanted to build a strong, united country
where people of either language group could
feel equally at home. At this point in time
there will be many who say he failed. The
backlash against his bilingual policies
reached the heights of ridiculousness when
some people complained about French on
cereal boxes, French that had been there for
at least 80 years. Yet history tends to move
two steps back for every three forward.
Progress in understanding between people
can be painfully slow. Whether Trudeau did
bring his country any closer to his goal of
unity will Only be told many years from now.
Well, I seem to be able to influence the
weather merely by writing a column about
it. So let's try it again.
Early in October, I wrote a column
laudatory of those golden October days,
with a sky of infinite blue, just a pleasant
tinge of melancholy in the air, and a
general sort of blat along those lines.
Promptly, without even a decent inter-
lude, October turned into a monster. One
of my colleagues, in whom I place infinite
trust because he is always wrong, and I go
from there, told me that this October
had approximately one-third of the sun-
light hours of a normal October. For once, I
believed him.
November, surely the foulest month of
the year in this country, with the possible
exception of March, is living up to
expectations. One day of watery sunshine,
four days of rain and dark skies. That's
why I'm writing this. By the time it appears
in print, the second half of November will
have turned out to be a giddy adventure of
belated Indian summer, with a touch of the
deep south thrown in.
November is a nothing month. The
leaves are all gone. In fact, they're lying on
your lawn, if you're like me, dank and
soggy and heavy.
The chap who's to put on your storm
windows has gone into hiding, letting his
phone ring its head off. And when he does
come, the windows don't fit, because the
sills have swelled through the inordinate
rains. Or something.
The skifts of snow become skiftier every
time there is one, and any day you'll get up
and it's midwinter.
November is darkness and depression.
And one of the most depressing things in
view is the proliferation of Santa Claus and
the four-color advertisements for Christ-
mas gifts, and the ridiculous beginning of
Christmas, so-called, music.
There are snow tires to get on, and snow
shovels, snow boots, and heavy clothing to
dig out, each one a dull, sickening thud on
one's spirits.
This year, as in every other November,
the government, whatever the shade of its
coat, is waffling and indecisive and obtuse
and strangely unaware of the real problems
of the country.
This year, in November, you can go into
a grocery store, spend ten dollars, and
come out with your total possessions in the
palm of one hand, in one smallish paper
bag.
Yoti knoW the old car isn't going to make
it through January, but you look in horror
at prices of gas and a new car, and go on
driving the coughing, belching old brute,
hoping for a flood or holocaust to end it all
arid save you the decision.
This November, people are running
wildly from one bank to another trust
company, trying to take advantage of the
ridiculous rates of interest. If they have any
money.
And if they don't, they quietly cry in the
dark and forget about building or buying a
home, because there is no way they can
ever pay for it, Joe Clark's silly mortgage
deal or pot. , And if people can't afford to ,build
houses, because of the cruel interest rates,`
what happens to the construction industry,
and all the others that depend on it, from
tiles to appliances to heating units.
And the blue-eyed sheiks are rattling
their sabres in the west, and the
chain-smoker is rattling his quill ii
Quebec, and altogether, it looks like a long,
dark, cold winter for this country,
physically and spiritually.
However, brethren and sistern, do not
go quiet into that good night. It's not all
bad.
There's some great news on the sports
pages. Toronto, at least, is maintaining its
image. It has the worst baseball team in
North America, in the big leagues. It has
the worst football team in Eastern Canada.
And the Maple Leafs are well on their way
to being renamed the Cellar Dwellers.
Doesn't all that cheer you up? At least
there's some consistency in the country.
It's only a feW weeks to the equinox. And
even if you're so deep in snow by then that
you don't know an equinox from a solstice,
never fear. Spring is near. A mere four
months off.
I feel like a sailor throwing lead life-belts
to drowning souls, but I repeat the call:
"Press on, regardless." Maybe you'll hit a
lottery winner. Maybe your wife isn't really
pregnant. Maybe you can live on un-
employment insurance and still get your
Saturday night case of twenty-four.
Maybe.
But I know it's hard to keep the faith in
November. Even the ruddy birds, those
with brains, have gone south. Those
without are walking. It's too wet to fly.
Think of all the good things in life. Now
keep on thinking. Think some more, and
I'm sure you'll come up with one.
Let's see. I'm not dying of cancer. I don't
think: I can afford three squares a day, I
hope. My five shares of CDC have dropped
only $28.00 a share on the market, and
have rallied by one dollar. My wife hasn't
left me, as she's threatened lately. Mixed
blessing, that.
My grandboys are six hundred miles
away and can't use me for a climbing tree
every second weekend, My bursitis is
merely excruciating, not Unbearable.
Good old November. Nothing like it.
Now, change, Weather!
Take it easy!
Winter is definitely here. Snow is starting to cover the roads, making
them slippery.
Some people like to take chances on the road, no matter what the
driving conditions are like. If the car ahead is driving slowly, it may be
irritating to have to wait, but an attempt to pass it on the slippery road
isn't worth taking a chance on your life.
Not only that, but in snowy weather it is often difficult to see cars
coming from the other direction, so unless there is an absolutely clear
view ahead of you, don't try and pass the car ahead and endanger your
own life.
If it's too stormy, you shouldn't head out in the first place, but make
sure you have packed a winter survival kit in your car just in case you
do get caught out there.
People often do foolish things while driving in winter, when they are
in a hurry to get some place. Just remember that no place, unless it's
an extreme emergency is worth the effort if it risks your life to get
there.
Behind the scenes
by Keith Roulston
Sugar and spice
By Bill Smiley