HomeMy WebLinkAboutThe Brussels Post, 1981-03-11, Page 2519-887-6641 Established 1872
Serving Brussels and the surrounding community
Published at BRUSSELS, ONTARIO
every Wednesday morning
by McLean Bros. Publishers Limited
Andrew Y. McLean, Publisher 4Pt, eut 111^Plj" c "1;1;111P''' Nr lk
S Evelyn Kennedy, Editor
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APE $ C0,04°'
Member Canadian Community Newspaper Association, Ontario
Weekly Newspaper Association and The Audit Bureau of
Circulation.
4Brussels PO"st
BRUSSELS
ONT.
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WEDNESDAY, MARCH 11, 1981
Lees make them
welcome
It's time for the seventh annual Optimist hockey tournament, time
once again to bring out the welcome mat for visitors to Brussels.
This annual tournament provides an opportunity of bringing more
business into Brussels which should help the area merchants, food
establishments, and the arena itself. The whole village is on show.
This is the time to show visitors just how friendly Brussels can be and
indicate that we would like their patronage more often. How people are
received in this village can make or break that patronage.
The tournament also provides hockey lovers of all ages with a lot of
entertainment as the tournament extends over Saturday and Sunday of
two weekends.
The welcome mat of every business in. Brussels should be out this
weekend to remind people and ourselves that this can be, as is so often
advertised, the friendliest town in Huron County.
The Optimists should also be credited for once again sponsoring a
tournament that will be of benefit to everyone in the village.
Box 50,
Brussels, Ontario
NOG 1H0
Thanks to Reagan, we're united
Behind the scenes
by Keith Roulston
Relax! Canada is saved. National unity is
onthe way, thanks to Ronald Reagan.
There is only one thing that binds
Canadians from coast to coast together more
than their hatred of Pierre Trudeau: their
thankfulness that they weren't born in the
United States. During the Jimmy Carter
years in the White House Canadians lost a
!Tittle of that feeling of relief which perhaps
accounts for the current disunity. Ronald
Reagan is about to fix that.
Canadians have always had a strange
relationship with the U.S. We've watched
their television and movies, read their
magazines and books to the point where
Canadian magazine and book publishers
4ouldn't find anybody here to read our own,
and followed American fashions. (Want to
see what Canadians will be doing in five
years? Visit California and see what the
Californians are doing today). We have sat
back and yearned for the higher standard of
living the Americans had and often
complained because our government
protected native industry with tariffs that
made things cost more than in the U.S.
And yet the continued reason for existence
of the country seemed to be that we didn't
want to be Americans. Canada was, after all,
formed because the leaders of the British
North American colonies didn't want to be
swallowed by the Americans. The
Americans had been fended off twice, once
when Benedict Arnold led a force north at
the time of the American Revolution and was
amazed to find out the colonials in Quebec
didn't want to be liberated, and again in
1812 when the Americans attacked, found
the colonials fought for the British, re-
treated, and still claimed victory in the war.
(Later the Americans got smart. They found
out that they could come up to Canada with
dollars instead of guns and buy the whole
place and the Canadians would welcome
them with open arms.)
Anyway, back to where we .' were.
Canadians have always taken a perverse
pride in not being American, even if we
dressed like them, talked like them and
worked for them. We wanted to have a
different kind of country that had the best of
their lifestyle with a few variations of our
own. Relief that we weren't Americans
reached a peak in the 1960s and 1970s. We
were so glad that we weren't mixed up in
Vietham. We were so glad we didn't haw,
people being killed at universities like Kent
State (even if our students as usual tried to
make American campus riots a Canadian
fashion, it never really caught on). We were
so glad not to have our cities in flames from
race riots. We were so glad 700 people a year
weren't being murdered in our cities as they
were in Detroit. In fact Detroit seemed to
symbolize the difference between Canada
and the U.S. On one side of the mile-wide
Detroit river peace and calm in Windsor.
A mile away race riots, murders, chaos.
We even had somethings the Americans
didn't have for a change. We had the joy of
Centennial year, the pride of Expo '67, the
love affair with an exciting new leader,
Pierre Trudeau, who looked pretty good
beside what the Americans had to offer.
In the early 1970s if Pierre Trudeau didn't
look so good anymore, at least we were
relieved he wasn't Richard Nixon, mixed up
in the Watergate affair.
But in the Carter years things changed a
little. The Americans had troubles, sure, but
basically the same kind of troubles we had.
They also had a leader who was trying to
change the image of America as a nation that
thought it had the right to tell the world what
to do. He was a president who led a
government more in the direction Canada
had taken: more social legislation, to even
out the plight of the rich 'And poor.
But Ronald Reagan is in and things are
back to normal. America is once more God's
chosen land. Communism must again be
beaten even if thousands of people die in El
Salvador so Ronald Reagan can show how
tough .American are. Taxes for the middle
class will be cut so they can buy more colour
televisions and new cars by cutting aid to the
poor. The generals are back in command.
the generals of the Pentagon and the
generals of Wall Street: General Motors,
General Electric, General Foods, etc. The
Ugly American rides again.
I admit to never being a Ronald Reagan
fan. I did feel, however, that the predictions
of gloom and doom from liberal journalists
should be halted at least until the man took'
office and had a chance to show what he
could do. Well, he's been in office for less
than two months and it looks like the next
four years will be long ones. The cold war is
back. Ronald Reagan wants to sabre rattle
and expects his allies to jump on the band
wagon because as U.S. president, he has the
divine right to speak fOr the democracies. He
is so ready to fight communism, even
imagined communism, th'at he's willing to
prop up re pressive goverminent like the one
in El Salvador. The lesson of Vietman has
not been learned: armed might won't keep in
office a government that is so corrupt the
people won't support it. The spread of
communism will get a big boost from Reagan
policies and hundreds of thousands of people
will die in the world, as frustrated people
who want reforms throw themselves in front
of the guns of oppressive governments who
know they only have to scream
"Communists" to get aid from the U.S.
Ah well, at least it will make people more
united in Canada. It might even make Pierre
Trudeau look good by comparison.
I could write a book about decorating
Sugar and spice
By Bill Smiley
Isn't it amazing how little our world really
is? How pretty and small and mean we are
underneath our professed liberalism, gener-
osity, compassion?
The situation in Poland is very dicy. The
Mexican stand-off in the Middle East is a
torch, loaded with pitch, just waiting for a
match. There are bush fires and brush fires
of wars all over the world.
Canada is in a mess, politically, econom-
ically and spiritually. There are noses
thumbed at the Queen by would-be head-
liners. There is a big flap aboUt the con-
stitution. The West is howling separatism.
Quebec still wants it, psychologically. Even
Newfie is threatening a referendum on
separating. Shame, after all that federal
money poured in to ensure the perpetuation
of the Liberal government. •
Outside, as I write, the great February
storm is raging: snow, high winds, rain,
freezing. Tomorrow will be one of those days
when the school buses don't run, the smart
kids in town will 'roll over and go to sleep
after looking at the snowbanked windows.
And a few dumb kids, and a lot of dumb
teachers, will stagger through the storm, at
risk of life and limb, to keep the stupid
school open.
And yet, all these storms, international ;
national, and local, don't brother me half as
much as the one in my own household:
Here's where the suspense begins. Wife left
him? Nabbled by the cops for mope and
gawkery?
Poles and Russians have been clobbering'
each other with ten-foot poles and vodka 'for
hundreds of years. The Jews and Arabs have
been doing the same forthree thousand
years. Likewise the North and South of
whatever: Viet Nam, Korea. the U.S.
Likewise all sorts of black people all over
Africa.
In Toronto, the cops punch up the gays,
who respond with violence. In the West, a
whole can of worm has been opened, and the
worms all turn out to be front Ontario and
Quebec. In parliament, lies are told, fingers
pointed, desks thumped, .and the
government goes right on dazzling us with
one hand, and with the other, lifting money
from our wallets to help out poor little old
Massey-Ferguson, old Chrysler, poor little
old Petro-Can. While that bulwark of
idealism, the NDP, nods and smiles, and
taps its fOot to the Liberal tune.
Right outside my window, the snow is
coming down so hard that the wind has no
time for Sculpturing, One guy is trying to
cli mb the hill sideways, in his car. Another
has just tarnmed his into a snowbank and
walked away.
He is the bile who boasted that he never
used Snow tires, because he had radials.
Across the country, people are driving under
insane ConclitiotiS, taking their own lives arid
those of others in their hands, to get from
nowhere to nowhere.
And yet, as I said, all these storms seem
trivial compared to the domestic storm. More
suspense.
To generously, not to say wildly,
paraphrase King Lear; "Blow, storm; lie,
politicians; smite, Middle-Easterners; plot
Slays. Go to it, and the best of luck to yiz
all."
But your plight brings little sympathy, no
tears, from one who is spider-webbed into a
binge of decorating. As I am.
Most women do their spring decorating in
the spring. Mine, just as perverse as the day
I asked her to marry me, and she retorted,
"Why should I?" ,does hers in mid-winter.
Don't ask me why. I'm likely to erupt in a
fountain of bad language.
I'll swear my eyes are permanently
crossed from looking at wall-paper samples.
After the first four books, they all begin to
look alike. Same with paint. After inspecting
peach, ivory, mushroom, off-white and six
others, I wouldn't know a red cow from a
purple pig, if I bumped into one or fell over
the other.
Not that there's a difference of opinion.
We did agree on the Wall-paper. At least the
design: She liked the stuff that WAS $14,95 a
roll. I was swept away by the Stuff, identical
design, that was $4.95 a roll. But the
difference is chicken-feed, as you'll agree.
Some chicken,
But it's not that. It's not the money. After
all, you can't take it with you. Though I
doubt if be around long enough to take
anything anywhere, even the garbage out of
the roadside, after the last decorating orgy.
It's the little details. She can't seem to
sort out the order of things. She makes a
deal with the painter-decorator to start on a
certain day. The day before he is to arrive,
she rushes out to pick the wall-paper.
Wallpaper is like the Canadian mail. It gets
there when it gets 'there. If ever.
Next day, she arranges for a cleaning lady
to wash the woodwork. The lady, much
sought after, can come only between the
painting and the papering. This means that
the paint goes on over dirty wood-work, and
there's nobody to clean up after the
plasterer, who makes such a mess that the
wall-paper looks like the dunes of the
Sahara. And so on,
I could write a book about decorating. All
I'd have to do is listen to my wife before
breakfast, before dinner, after dinner, and
before bed. Which I have to do anyway.
No wonder colleagues say when I arrive at
work: "You look exhausted." Substitute
Harassed", "frightened," "desperate" or
"frantic'" and you have the average
Canadian male When his wife decides that
hte homestead is shabby, disgraceful;
sluniniy, and so on and On and On.