The Brussels Post, 1975-01-22, Page 10Sugar and Spice
By Bill Smiley
Huron Presbyterial meets
Over 40 delegates from
churches in Seaforth, Hensall,
Goderich, Auburn and I3elgrave
attended the 89th annual meeting
in. Seaforth last Wednesday of the
i-luron Presbyteria of W.M.S. of
the Presbyterian Church of
Canada.
Miss Belle Campbell of
Seaforth was named historian to
complete the history of the
Society. Miss Campbell has
completed the first sixty years of
the Society and will work on the
last 15 years now.
Mrs. George MacEwen,
Goderich, Treasurer, reported the
givings to M issions were over the
allocation by $1,000.
Rev, Edwin Nelson of Seaforth
was the speaker for the meeting
held at First Presbyterian
Mrs. Lillian Kerslake
Church
Mrs. A, Enright, Goderich, was
re-elected for a second term.
Other officers are: secretary,
Mrs. Reginald Kerslake,
Seaforth; Mrs. George G.
MacEwan, Goderich, Treasurer;
Mrs. Wesley Bradnock, Auburn,
young womens' promotion
Secretary; Mrs. William
Waddell, Seaforth, adult group
secretary; Children's Secretary,
Mrs. Rachel Schwalm, Hensall;
Associate members, Mrs.
Harvey Hyde, Hensall;
Friendship and Service, Mrs.C.
Secretary, MrsRochus Faber,
Kalbfleisch, Varna; Literature
Kippen; Glad Tidings, Mrs.
J.C.Burney, Belgrave; Supply
Secretary, Mrs. Jean Scott,
R.R.2, Seaforth; Press,
Bradnock; Life. Membership,
Mrs. J. Dunbar, Belgra.ve,
There are a lot of questions floating
around in the murky depths of my mind,
and occasionally one floats to the surface.
It is usually slapped down by someone (my
wife?), or just given a good shot of Raid,
and lies over 'on it side and expires.
But recently, the questions have been
boiling up like bubbles in a thundermug.
felt I should share them with my
long-suffering readers, and among the six
of us, we might be able to come up with
some answers. (By the way, if you don't
know what a thundermug is, ask your
Mum. Your Dad would be too shy to
explain.)
They arc not exactly burning questions,
but they do create a small smoulder, from
time to time.
Why arc so many men addicted to hairy
appendages to their craniums these days? I
can understand any chap growing a beard
to hide a weak chin. I can understand any
young many trying to grow a beard. It's
part of growing up.
But why all these Fu Manchu moust
aches? They add nothing whatever to a
face that has no character, and they detract
from one that does.
I'm glad I'm not a girl, It must be
revolting to kiss a young man and wind up
with a mouthful of hair,
When I got back to England from prison
camp, I had a beautiful handlebar job
which had taken mc nine months of
constant upsweeping to achieve. It came
off 20 minutes after I'd looked up my first
old girl friend.She said it was like kissing a
cow's ear. Blunt but honest, she was.
And why do all those older guys, who ate
skin-bald for the first two-thirds of their
skulls, insist on growing those long,
greasy, forlorn ringlets at the backs of their
heads, falling down over their collars?
They fool nobody. It doesn't make them
look more virile, It merely makes them look
scruffy and silly.
They remind me of the guys who used to
comb carefully across a completely naked
pate eight strands of long hair from their
sideburns. Why not face it, chaps? If you
have a big belly, stick it out and pat it. If
you're a baldy, you're a baldy, and you
wash y our hair with a face-cloth.
It doesn't seem to bother the ladies, Yu(
Brynner has been a sex symbol for years.
And that Telly Savalas, or whatever his
name is, that mean-looking guy on TV
(Rojack? Hojak? Wojak?) seems to be on
every second program, bald as an egg, and
about the same shape,
I remember etderish lady whose. chief
delight was putting a needle into. people,
She was as bald as a billiar d ball on top;
but, by a CieVet' contrivance of buns and'
piling-up, she managed to cover it. Or so
she thought.
In her joky way, one day, while I had my
head bent over a book, in my usual
scholarly fashion, she scratched my crown
and chortled, "My, you're getting a little
thin on top."
It didn't bother mc. I was. If it had, I
could have said something cruel. Like,
"O.K. Rapunzcl, let down your hair and
we'll climb up and have a look at what
you've been hiding all these years,"
I couldn't. But I didn't like the old bat,
and it was time someone blunted her
needle. So, I stood up, walked around her
twice, my eyes glued to her bum, which
looked like the east end of a cow going
west, smiled, and said gently, "Yes, my
dear, but perhaps it's better to be getting a
little thin on top .than gargantuously thick
on the bottom."
She scuttled to the coffee urn, eyes a
witter to see if anyone had heard, and shut
her mouth for three whole days. I think it
was the word `gargantuously' that flang
her.
This started out as a question period,
and is turning out to be a piece about hair.
Sorry. I've nothing against hair, as such.
I'm not one of those back-to-the brush-
cut people. Lordy, if someone made all my
students (male) cut their hair, I'd have to
learn their names all over again, and it's
already taken me three months to identify
the shaggy dogs.
In tact,l rather enjoy the modern novels,
which state that, "She ran her hands
through his long, silken hair," just as
much as I enjoyed the old novels which st
tiled that, "He ran his hands through her
long silken hair." Meth's Lib, If you can
find some silken hair, which is a lot scarcer
than you think , grab onto it and run your
hands through it,
One group I do feel sorry for during this
fad is the old-fashioned barber, There's no
such thing as a y oung barber. The young
ones are all hair stylists,For the old-timers,
business is pretty sketchy. Sonic of them
arc cutting so little hair these days — the
odd gray lock here, another there — that
they don't even need a broom to sweep the
floor. They just use a garden rake,
I'm sorry. This started out as a column of
questions about the energy mess,
politicians who n cad a 33 per cent raise in
pay and other such, and it wound up as
nothing but another of my hairy columns,
No wonder my life is such a mess. I
can't keep to the trail. I'M like a finely
trained deerhound who goes hating off
after a hare When he should be pursuing a
buck,
•,-
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