HomeMy WebLinkAboutThe Brussels Post, 1980-10-15, Page 2LOOK WHAT WE'VE GOT—David Bylsma and Sherrie Oliver of Hullett
Central School in Londesboro seemed quite happy with the apples they
gathered under a tree at Mait-Side Orchards in Brussels when the school
visited there on Tuesday of last week. (Photo by Lang lois)
WEDNESDAY, OCTOBER 15,. 1980
Serving Brussels and the surrounding community.
Published each Wednesday afternoon at Brussels, Ontario
By McLean Bros. Publishers Limited
Evelyn Kennedy - Editor Pat Langlois Advertising
SPUNK 1.1
QIITAR PI)
Member Canadian Community Newspaper Association and ,
Ontario Weekly Newspaper Atsociation
-/".441,
g Brussels Post
New life in Brussels
It looks like things may just be starting to pick up in Brussels again.
With Audrey Mayer opening up a creative gift shop, another empty
building has been filled on main street and it also seems that there is
renewed interest in the Brussels Santa Claus parade.
Lately people seem to be taking more of an interest in hobbies and
crafts of all kinds. Perhaps that's an indication of what more of the
empty stores in the village should be geared to.
Each store could specialize in a different area of crafts and.hobbies
and Brussels could, become well-known as a place that catered to such
needs.
And maybe, if people came in for their craft needs, they might just
look for some things they need at the grocery store or the drug store or
some of the other stores in town, thus providing business for them as
well.
Let'shopethat this trend of new businesses in the vil,lage continues.
It just could put the breath of life back into Brussels.
Behind the scenes
by Keith Roulston
will be back next week
A DEMONSTRATION IN PICKING—Children from the Hullett Central
School in Londesboro got to see how apples should be picked as
demonstrated from some pickers from Newfoundland when the school
paid a visit to Mait-Side Orchards in Brussels last Tuesday. (Photo by
Langlois)
Will anyone ever get to read this column?
Sugar and spice
By Bill Smiley
I don't know that there's much point in
.vriting this column. The posties are at it
again, as 1 write, with wildcat strikes,
-slowdowns and whatever you want to call
them.
And since the column is syndicated,
nation-wide, it depends on the mail, erratic
and undependable as it is. It would be a
little expensive, to say the least, if I had to
use courier service to Kamloops, B.C., and
Truro, N.S., not to mention 100-odd places
between.
However, it's an ingrained habit, like the
Saturday night bath, so I'll bungle out a
column anyway.
Something that truly amazes me is that
there has been no physical response to the
constant postal strikes, sometimes employ-
ing violence, often flouting the law.
In my mind's eye, I can see some little
old lady, sore as hell because she got her
pension cheque a month late, creeping up
behind a post office truck and hurling a
bomb through the back window.
Or some deserted wife, desperately
dependent on that welfare cheque, taking a
can of gasoline into a large post office in a
large city, sprinkling herself liberally with
the essence, striking a match, and
immolating.
But in this country, the first „example
would get life imprisonment, where, a
murderer gets ten years with three off for
good behavior. And in the second, some
good souls would start a fund to help her
children, and within a week would have
raised $482, by which time the story would
be on page 24,
However, into each life some sun must
shine, though there wasn't much around
this past summer.
My wife had been feeling poorly, as we
used to say, for some time. After six
months of blandishment and threats, I got
her to see her doctor and have a check-up.
Today she tells me that she phoned the
doc and she's as sound as an apple. I asked
her if she's had him take an X-ray of her
head. Everything else is functioning
normally. Her reply was short and to the
point. Back at school after several weeks, I
am beginning to wonder why I didn't quit
teaching 10 years ago, and go to work in a
mental institution. At least there you can
stuff the inmates with tranquillizers.
One more year of teaching Huckleberry
Finn, and the best place to find me is
floating down the Mississippi on a' raft,
smoking a corncob pipe. I quit teaching
Grade 13 because I was getting madder
than Hamlet.
<OThe people who write course curriculums
and advocate the' one-on-one relationship
with pupils are about as close to reality as
the Ayatollah Khomaini or Idi Amin in his
last few years.
If they had their way, it would be like
Moses walking around among the Jews,
asking each and every one, "Now, what do
you think of the fourth commandment? Do
you think ass is a bad word?" Or Hitler,
strolling through Germany for 88 years,
querying the population about the pollutat-
ory effects of mass cremations.
Fortunately, most teachers with an
ounce of intelligence, and there are several
of us, completely ignore the millions of
dollars worth of "directives", and try to
teach the kids some semblance of morality,
decenty, integrity, and whatever our
subject is.
In 20 years, I'll bet I've taught 12 kids to
answer, when I've asked if they have read
a certain book, not to say, "No but I seen
the movie."
I have taught at least 15 not to use the
dangling participle, "Riding my bicycle, a
dog bit me."
And I. don't give a diddle. They've
learned a lot more than that, ,and I have
letters to prove it. They've learned not to
laugh at people who ate physically or
emotionally or mentally slow, and to help
them.
They've learned Opt nationalism is
stupid, thgt two wrongs (depending)
sometimes Make a right; that two and two
don't always make fOur; that you should
question things that don't make sense) that
emotions ,,are nothing, to be ashamed of,
and so on and on and on, said the boring
old teacher.
If I don't want to get heartburn or
something, I'd better stop talking„ about
teaching. I've seen too many colleagues
break down physically or mentally to take
much stock in it. The kids go. through the
mill and emerge in all kinds of shapes:
beautiful, grotesque, funny, dour. I think
their genes have more to do with it than
Miss Entwhistle, who crucified them in
Grade 9 for spelling errors. Or Mr.
Entwhistle; who taught them that:
"Beautyls truth, and truth beauty. That
is all we know and all we need to know."
Which is a lot of crap.
One last cheering note. An article
informs me that there is no way Canadian
tourists can go to Europe anymore,
because the prices are literally out of this
world. Glad we sneaked in a couple of trips
when they were merely exorbitant.
Canadian tourist operators should be
brushing up on their. Japanese, German,
and Italian. We're going to be swamped,
with that pallid Canadian dollar. Canada,is
a steal for foreigners with ato sound
currency.
Write a letter to the editor today.
4 •