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HomeMy WebLinkAboutThe Brussels Post, 1972-02-09, Page 8WEEKLY SALE BRUSSELS STOCKYARDS LTD. EVERY FRIDAY AT 12 NOON Brussels Centennial Celebrations, June 29th to July 3rd Phone 887-6461 Brussels, Ont. erillibesmailffierrollema UIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIUIIIIIIIIIIIUIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII HAVE YOUR INCOME TAX PREPARED EARLY — Guaranteed Service — Phone Today for an Appointment Ronnenberg Insurance Agency Open in Brussels — Tuesdays and Fridays PHONE 887-6663 — Income Tax Consultants — Our terms are annual, not three years in advance. 9. 1972 Business Directory J. E. LONGSTAFF -OP TOMETRIST- SEAFORTH, GOVENLOCH ST. 527-1240 Tuesday, Thursday, Friday, Thursday Evening CLINTON OFFICE, 10 ISAAC STREET Monday, and Wednesday 482-7010 Phone Either Office For Appointment HOUSE OF MAX FURNISHINGS - INTERIORS -M. L. WATTS FUNERAL HOME PHONE: 887-6336 or 887-6585 BRUSSELS, Ont. CRAWFORD and MILL J. H. CRAWFORD, Q.C. A, R. M. MILL, B,A., LLB. ROSS E. DAVIES, B.A., LLB. BRUSSELS and WINGHAM PHONE 887-9491 PHONE 357-3630 Wingham Memorial Shop QUALITY SERVICE CRAFTSMANSHIP Open Every Weekday Your Guarantee For Over 35 Years of CEMETERY LETTERING Box 156 WINGHAM JOHN MALLICK. GENERAL INSURANCE FIRE AUTO R ES , LIABILITY 887-164 PHONE: OFFICE 887-6100 JIM CARDIFF REAL ESTATE BROKER GENERAL INSURANCE AGENT FOR HOWICK FARMERS MUTUAL FIRE INS. REAL 4.STATE BROKER McGavin's Farm Equipment WE SPECIALIZE IN A COMPLETE LINE OF FARM EQUIPMENT Sales and Service BRUSSELS WALTON, ONTARIO SEAFORTH 887-6365 527-0245 aitioS RADIO and TV SALES &SERVICE ELECTROHOME do erlri degree a!'e.ce!lpnce. ., QUEEN STREET. BLYTH,ONT. • P/ 523-9b40 DEAD STOCK REMOVAL SERVICE WANTED - DEAD AND DISABLED - CATTLE AND HORSES - TOP PRICES PAID FOR HORSES ON THE HOOF Small Animal Pickup 24 Hr. Fast Efficient Services Brussels Pet Food Supplies Lic. 2 /3-c-70 S FREE OF CHARGE - OVER 150 LBS. PHONE COLLECT 887-9334 BRUSSELS Bill Smiley Brings Humor To His Column During recent weeks, Brus- Ivy's brother in law, tne editer For a writer like pill, a SOS Post readers have enjoyed of the WiartonEcho was drowned colourful family is a defieite the Weekly column, "Sugar and and there was Pehody to take over asset. His wife, to whom he Spice" by Bill Smiley.' the paper. stepped into the has referred variously as "the we have heen asked on a num- breach and for years he lived Old Lady," 'the Battle Ax e,•, ber Of eccasions: "WhO is this 'the happy harried life of a small or 0 (tlie Boss," is in reality an Bill $Mlley?" Here is the answer, town newspaper editor, rushing to intelligent and attractive lady get ads out, covering council who gets fan mail of her own. Meetings and Women's Institute She's as interested in writing meetings," In addition, he wrote and reading as he is, and plays a personal column,free froma mean game of chess. If occas- editorial and reporting restric- tonally she does something wacky, tions. The little celumn caught like setting the mantle piece,afire on. soon other editors were r at Christmas, it's all grist for picking it up and some of them. Bill's mill. paid him as much as 50 cents a Week for it. Before long over, eighty weeklies were reprinting Smiley's Sugar and Spice, and the proofreading, mailing and billing became a family industry for Bill, Ivy and the youngsters, Hugh and Kim. When the Tele- gram Syndicate offered to market Bill's column, everybody was delighted.No more sticky tongues from licking envelopes and stamps!. The Elmvale Lance has investigated Bill Smiley, has, analyzed him and has come up With some interesting con- clusions which appeared recently in Town. and Country under the title "Syndicated Canadian" Shirley Whittington tells of her studies: Once a week, an Ontario high school teacher hunches over his typewriter and stabs out a salty little column about things like mortgages, kids, taxes and the cruel Canadian winter . Bill Smiley, who seasons 150 weekly newspapers across Canada with his personal blend of sugar and spice, tells it like it is. He comments on home life. "It is something to be borne, like varicose veins or ingrown toe- nails." He talks about family hang-ups. "Momma's tolerance thins with the same rapidity as Dad's hair." About his job, he says, "Show me a teacher in June and I'll show you a character with a crumpled shirt, a wrinkled brow and a desperate look in his eye." He has this to say about the puzzling business of living; "The Sixties produced the millions of kids who are now a mystery and terror and bewilderment to the relics of the Frightful Forties." To readers of his column, Bill comes across as a wise, irre- verent and witty man. It's an honest projection. He writes the way he talks. Sitting in his favou- rite chair an uncomfortable straight backed job - he'll curl one hand around a drink and run the other through his thinning white hair. He listens, while conversation flows around him, then delivers a wry and usually definitive comment, in a voice as comfortable as a rusty porch swing. This wiry unsentimental wisdom is the reason acquaint- ances from eight to 80 ask him for advice. T his is why ex- students invite him to their wed- dings, and why every female he meets falls a little bit in love with hira. And this is why a clipping from a Saskatchewan newspaper describes him as "by far our most syndicated colum- nist." Bill was born in Perth, Ont., and was studying at Victoria College when World War Two began. He joined the RCAF, became a Typhoon pilot and took part in nany dangerous missions, like hitch hiking 380 miles on a forty hour pass to see a girl. He regards this escapade with the same puckish spirit as the time he had to circle an airfield for a couple of hours with a live bomb hanging from his wingtip. The chaps down below wouldn't let him land until they had cleared away all the men and machines. "I landed", he says, "like a mouse in kid gloves walking on eggs. Then I ran like a bat out of hell, in flying boots, with a parchute bumping on my bum." The high times were abruptly interrupted in 1944 when he was shot down over Holland and im- prisoned by the Germans. He came home with a knee disabled by an S,S,boot, and with plans to complete his Honour English course at U. of T. There he met his dark-eyed wife, and he's been announcing ever since that she is the root of all his troubles. They had only been married a few months, subsisting on love and very little money, when biology threw a spanner into the works. (Ivy (Susie to her friends) became pregnant and Bill de- veloped T.B. After a year of separation - he in a sanitoriuni, she at home in Wiarton - they both resumed their college car- eers, burning the midnight oil- with a baby son as well as a stack of text books. Bill had his eye on post-graduate studies in English with a view to teaching, but tragedy intervened, 8—THE BRUSSELS POST, FEB Although he was established as an editor and columnist, the urge to teach lingered in Bill. Off he went to O. C. E. Ivy managed the paper, juggling interviews, news reports and the management of a home and family with cheer- ful efficiency. He began his teaching career in Midland; where he is now head of the English Department of MSS. Lately he has joined the Argyle syndicate. The Telegram tried to retaliate by featuring another well known columnist inSmiley's format, but his loyal readers weren't fooled. As far as they're concerned, Bill Smily is irre- placeable. proof of his readers' affec- tion and involvement arrives in his ma'roox almost every day. When he mentioned a few years ago that his daughter Kim was dangerously ill with hepatitis, a flood of letters arrived, with prayers for her recovery. When he said that, in his opinion cable Tv was explotation, he was visited by two officials from a large cable network, who sugges- ted that perhaps he was only kid- ding and would like to retract or modify his statement in a later column. He wasn't. He didn't. Last year he wistfully remarked that he'd like to get away from it all and enjoy a summer vacation with his wife - perhaps in the form of an auto trip across Canada. Invitations flowed in, offering everything from deep sea fishing in the Maritimes to dancing under the stars in British Columbia. A column commenting on the BAHAI religion inspired a spirited if ungrammatical, reply from an irate Westerner. Daughter Kim, a beautiful redhead with a blinding smile, is currently a student at Erindale. College, where she is earning professorial raves for her writ- ing ability. Smiley's readers know all about her. They have been following her exploits through Bill's column, from her first music festival to her summer hitch-hiking adventures. Hugh, Bill's handsome son, was also at university, and Smiley aficia.na.dos remember columns about his piano recital, his summer working on the boats and the time he broke a finger Indian wresting in Mexico. Bill's attitude to his kids is a typical , blend of sugar and spice. "Those selfish brats? Let them look after themselves. I'm goirig to enjoy life without worrying about a pair of rotten ingrates." As he says this, he writes out a healthy cheque to help with college expenses. Is writing the column ever a chore? Yes, says Bill. "It has to be in the mail every Tuesday night, and every minute writing it is hard work. I hate it except when it's finished. Then I either feel the glow of knowing it came off, or a small work of misery starts eating away at me and I can't eradicate it until the next column." Will he ever write the Great Canadian Novel? "There are quite a few of them around al- ready," he says, "by fellows like Callaghan, Richter, Hugh Garner and Jack Ludwig. As long as I'm. teaching, I won't have time to start anything so ambitious." Because there are never enough hours in the day, Bill often has to turn down invitations to speak, or to conduct writing seminars. The few speaking engagements he has undertaken have proven to be memorable occasions for his listeners. To a high school graduating class he said, "Tonight I'm supposed to speak to you about good reading habits .. . The choice of speaker was a hilarious piece of mis- casting." In 1971, he cpened a speech to the top officials of the HOYal Canadian Legion this way; ',you must wonder f what a,. . piddling little one-time flight- loot is doing addressing such an august body, And I wondered the same," He has served on the panel of judges for the Stephen Leaceek Award for several years, a role he enjoyed because it kept him abreast of developments in Canadian writing a subject in which he is intensely interested. His ambitions are stated in this snippet from an old column: "When I'm 85, I want to be known in the Nursing Home as !that old devil Smiley, who pinches your bottom every time, you pass his wheel ,chair." IP the meantime, every day night Bill returns to his cen- tury.-old brick house and dumps the day's crop of unmarked essays or exams on the kitchen table. lie settles himself at his typewriter with a drink, (anything wet - Coke, coffee, beer, tea,) and a smoke ("I'll smoke till croak!") and percolates his weekly ration of wry comment. Then he starts rapping with the folks in Collingwpod andSeaforth and High River and about a hundred other very important places in Canada.