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HomeMy WebLinkAboutThe Brussels Post, 1975-05-14, Page 2WEDNESDAY, MAY 14, 1975 Serving Brussels and the surrounding community. Published each Wednesday afternoon at Brussels, , Ontario by McLean Bros.Publishers, Limited. Evelyn Kennedy - Editor • Dave Robb - Advertising Member Canadian Community Newspaper Association and Ontario Weekly Newspaper Association. • Subscriptions (in advance) Canada $6.00 a year, Others CCNA $8.00 a year, Single Copie's 15 cents each. A. COMAI elk VIIL/FC) 11Rp9SIKS °WASIK) icrokmasup 172 Brussels ost The rummage sa We need culture Culture is often seen by Canadians as a dirty word. It seems to refer to high flown' activity like ballet, poetry reading and opera. Some people think they get' culture forced on them too 'often, on CBC tv for • example, and they don't much, like a lot of what they see. They prefer hockey and Hawaii. Five-O. - But culture is more than the poetry we used to have to memorize in high school and plays that , people pretend to enjoy and think will "improve their minds." . We think culture at its• best is drama and music and art that helps us take a look and sometimes a laugh at ourselves. Culture means participation, in a little theatre group or as an audience at a performance like the Farm Show, instead of sitting passively in front of the TV every night. And we think that culture" for too long has been confined to the big cities. Federal and provincial • governments spend Millions 'every year subsidizing culture --- theatre groups, music, ballet and art galleries that most Canadians in small towns never .get a chance to see. Our tax money, as well as the dollars from city people, is going to support cultural . activities that are too far away for us to see them. We can do a. lot by ourselves. We can organize little theatre. We can attend the plays and activities of the few brave souls that venture out into rural. Canada to give us a chance to see what they have to offer. The ._stirrings of activity in a place like Memorial Hall in Blyth, which is slowly becoming a place to see touring talent of national calibre, are. encouraging. But we don't think it would be out of line to ask our federal and provincial governments to spread their money spent on cUlture around a little. Theatres, ballet companies and artists could be subsidized,to go out to the small towns of this country. It could be done at the exp'ense of cutting down on a few days of their usual city schedules. Once the artists and performers got to say Seaforth, the overhead here would be a fraction of what it would be for a night's run at O'Keefe Centre in Toronto. If our governments can't help bring the cultural activities -that, our tax dollars help sponsor to us, there is the only one other way we see out of what is really rank discrimination against those of us who don't live in cities. ' .And that's subsidized transportation, to take us to the cities where these things are going on. Since rail service to many of Canada's small towns has been • eliminated, that would be a problem. And then says to him Amen by Karl Schuessler I didn't mind collecting all those letters my ,,on got. Keeping them in a pile on my desk. Intil he 'got home from university. It wasn't worth sending the letters on to He'd be home in a week. When his. Qxains finished on Friday. So I. just let them lay on my desk. But one of them did bother me. It was a small size envelope. Not one of those big business size. It had his full name and lciome plete address written on it. Very official k. And the return address read "Guelph jail". At first I didn't think too much about it. I knew he'd been trying all over to get a summer jot. And when one of my friends happened to see the letter on my desk, I laughed and said, "That's for my son. I hope they want him to work there not live there". It wasn't all that funny. But I brushed the matter aside. But 'it did bother me. Why was my son getting a letter froM Guelph jail? In such a small envelope. In. such efficialese? I wonder if anything's wrong? He didn't seem like himself the last time he was home. Of course I knew it was just before exams. He seemed edgy. So preoccupied. He didn't talk that much. And he came home late too. Almost missed our birthday dinner. And he's always very punctual. It just wasn't like him. • My boy? In trouble? My wife tried to assure Me. If he had something to hide, he wouldn't have jail letters' sent to his heinie address. He'd have them sent on down to London. But that was cold comfort. What if he's really in trouble? I have to help him. I was tempted. Should I open the letter? I. picked it up in my hand. I turned it over and over No. I can't. He's 21, Ile's responsible. I cant live his life for him, So what if the letter does say he left' his shorts in the Guelph jail last week? What call I do about it? What can I do? I can't bother him now. He's midway into-, exams: Real do or die exams. If he deesn't make their, he doesn't make big year. leave things along. I put the letter down. Guelph Jail stared up at me Oh, my GOdl If he's been in jail, it won't Matter if he passes his exams or net, He can't be a lawyer if he'S got a criMinal record. I moved all the stack of letters off my desk. Put them in a• drawer. But I couldn't forget. All that week. When Friday came, I was relieved. His last exam. He'll be home tonight. But he didn't come. The uneasy feeling grew: Maybe they're closing the year with a celebration. A party. He'll be home on Saturday. , He didn't come.' Victory parties can't last that ,Jong! I phoned on Saturday night. No answer. I phoned again. Later on Saturday night, Soine one else answered. "No, I don't know where he is. No I don't know when he's., coming back. Yes. Fit leave a message. Call home." But hp didn't call home. There must be something Wrong. My boy's riot. like this. He always responds to my `messages. Maybe he can't face us. There IS something 'Wrong. Maybe he didn't even take his exams, Maybe he's run off. Bur what can I do? It's over to him now. I left the 'message. It's his move. What else to • do but wait? Wait for him to come around, But I can't. I must try again. I phoned again. SUpday meriting. • "Just a minute, I'll see if he's here". I Waited. Two minutes'. Two very long minutes. Where is he? Didn't he come in last night? See? Soinething's wrong. Everything's Wrong: "Hello, Dad, How ate pita' My heart leaped. I Could hardly talk. "That all depends," I said, "on how you are "Vine, Fine, 'Exams are over. I think I patSed. My friend's been here fore two days, We're fixing up' his car, be home this afternoon,"' And at that minute eVerything Was tight. All tight, And when he datne homei I handed hint the Guelph Jail letter. Ito opened it. He shook his head. "Another reject., No.summer job there. ,And he tossed it in the wastepaper basket. tea san Spr Mr Wa "T1 foil the mu dec chil and pert by Fa Du Sun spo ,strei T rend is ou Motl acco Hue sele acco his Th Alla Mac o ga Th Wed meet atten churc Th McG with the repea Travi Mrs. finan Fu the Anniv Churc menu lunch servic availa presid pins a Mrs corresi thank. Broad McDo Mrs, Flo church 8th a Bound unit in Mrs. contact order 1 as to London asked eke will att 8S re ere 11 upboa nquire