HomeMy WebLinkAboutThe Citizen, 1990-10-17, Page 5THE CITIZEN, WEDNESDAY, OCTOBER 17, 1990. PAGE 5.
How not
to get a job
A lot of readers think I spend all my
waking hours in a roach-infested flophouse
garret, drinking cheap wine and eating
mouldy heels of baguettes when I’m not
throwing myself at the walls trying to come
up with an idea for my next newspaper
column.
Not true. Once in a while I slip down to
the local radio station to host a weekly
radio show. (The station could be described
as a roach-infested flophouse but that’s
another horror story.)
The reason 1 bring up my Other Life is
that my producer recently interviewed
applicants for a research job on our radio
show.
I found him the morning after, face down
on his desk blotter, whimpering quietly.
The job interviews had not gone well.
The first applicant who showed up was a
chirpy, energetic woman with more ques
tions than answers. “This program - it’s
kinds like a current affairs-type program,
isn’t it?’’ Well, no, said my producer, not
exactly. He asked the job-seeker if she ever
listened to the program. “Afraid not’’ she
The International
SceneI
Highlights of a
summer’s travel
BY RAYMOND CANON
I have long ago given up being surprised
at what questions people ask about other
countries; they are interested in the
strangest things. The operative word is
“strange” since it may be to me but it
obviously is not to them. However, with the
goal of providing a few snippets of life in
Europe this past summer that some people
may find enjoyable, following are some
observations which I made in my travels.
The most novel sight is without a doubt
the presence on the German Autobahnen
of East Germans, after decades of being
held behind the iron curtain. Most of them
were driving a car called the Trabant which
is produced in East Germany and which
has a top speed of 100 kph. ... with a strong
tail wind. You probably know that the West
Germans drive like the proverbial bat out
of the lower regions and so we roared by
these cars almost as if they were standing
still. 1 saw a number of them beside the
road with their hood up as if 100 kph were
even too much for them. Needless to say,
when the Trabant comes in direct competi
tion with western cars, it will soon be
history.
The most frustrated people I saw had to
be a long line of motorists behind a Swiss
farmer driving a tractor with two wagons of
hay up the Brunig Pass in central
Switzerland. He was only a short way up;
the line-up was already over a kilometer
long and it is a good question how long it
was by the time he reached his destination.
We all have frustrations on the highways;
this one had to be the ultimate. Knowing
Swiss farmers I don’t think it bothered him
too much.
We all have our likes and dislikes about
an open Sunday and discussing that is
beyond the scope of this column. However,
I would like to point out that in both
Germany and Switzerland, it is no problem
at all. The vast majority of stores close
down Saturday noon and stay closed until
Monday morning. It is not that either the
Swiss or the Germans are religious
people; on any given Sunday there is a
smaller percentage of both nationalities in
church than in Canada. It is just that by
replied. “I mostly just watch TV.’’
The next hopeful was a breezy, affable
guy wearing a sports jacket that could halt
traffic and a pinkie ring that Curtis Strange
could have teed off on. He cruised through
the office doors and hove to in front of a
woman he took to be the receptionist. After
eyeballing her approvingly from stem to
gudgeon he murmered “Hi doll, is the boss
in?’’
Alas for Lothario, “doll” was the boss.
Director of the department and a woman
whose subscription to Ms. Magazine has
not lapsed. She asked icily if he treated all
female office workers as personal flunkies.
The guy, already up to his neck, dug
deeper.
“Hey, lady, no way. I know you gals are
EVERYwhere these days!”
And so it went. The applicants for the job
grew more and more unsuitable, my
producer grew more and more dismal.
Well, I could have taken him out for a
drink. I might have fixed him up with a pair
of mid-stripe tickets for the next CFL
game. But I did something much more
appropriate.
I went out and got a copy of the Robert
Half survey.
Robert Half Intermational is a well-
known American firm that recruits execu
tive and professional help for companies in
the financial industry. Last year they
contacted the personnel directors of 100
major corporations, and asked them one
simple question: what was the most
and large they do not see any point in
staying open during the weekend. The
chief exceptions to this are, of course,
gas stations and restaurants.
There is a great deal of talk these days in
Canada about preserving old buildings. If
you are one of those doing the talking you
will be fascinated by a visit I had this
summer in St. Gall, Switzerland. I was
invited by a Swiss family to have dinner
with them and to see the renovations to
their apartment. To say that I found it
fascinating would be putting it mildly. The
apartment is over the family store in the
old section of the city and the renovations
have lasted over the past 18 months. I was
informed that the building was at least 500
years old and efforts have been made to
retain as much of the original structure as
possible. To me one of the highlights was
the murals on the walls of one of the rooms
and which depict part of the story of the
creation of the world. I have no idea of the
Letter
Helping parents grieve
THE EDITOR,
Children are not suppose to die: Nobody
teaches you in Prenatal Class how to
choose a coffin. None of the books on
parenting have a chapter on how to arrange
a funeral. No high school diplomas have a
blank space to fill in the graduates’ date of
death. There is a very simple reason for
this. Children are not supposed to die. It is
not anticipated, it is not right, and it’s not
fair, but it happens.
When a child dies, the parents are
suddenly in unexpected and unfamiliar
territory and they are totally unprepared.
Their hopes and dreams and plans for the
future are gone and there is little comfort
in memories and momentoes and “might
have beens”.
A bereaved parent can feel very isolated
and alone, thinking no one can even begin
to understand the utter desolation they
feel. Well-meaning family and friends
manage with astonishing regularity to say
exactly the wrong thing: “You can always
have another baby” (would they say to a
widower ‘Oh well, you can always get
another wife!’). “I’m sure he’s happy
unusual job interview you conducted.
The responses were more astounding
and hilarious than the folks at Robert Half
International could have hoped for. Person
nel directors recalled interviews in which:
•Explaining that she hadn’t eaten lunch,
the applicant wolfed down a burger and
fries during interview.
•Applicant with receding hairline left the
office and returned minutes later wearing a
toupee.
•Applicant sat down with a Walkman
clamped to her skull explaining that she
could listen to the interviewer and her
favourite music at the same time.
•Applicant stopped the interview to
phone his psychiatrist for advice on how to
answer questions.
•Applicant dozed off and began to snore.
Still, a job interviewer can’t always take
things at face value. Never forget the
experience of the editor of a Nevada
newspaper who looked up from his desk
one day to see a stranger, covered with
dust, a filthy hat on his head and a
bedroll on his back. Flopping in a chair, the
stranger muttered “My starboard leg
seems to be unshipped. I’d like about a
hundred yards of line; I think I am falling to
pieces. My name is Clemens and I’ve come
to write for the paper.” On a hunch, the
editor hired him.
Good hunch. The young stranger was
Samuel Clemens, soon to give birth to a
couple of immortal rascals named Tom
Sawyer and Huckleberry Finn.
cost of the renovations but it must have
been considerable; to me it was worth
every penny of it.
The Fast er-Th an-a-Speeding-Bullet
Award goes to the German oil companies in
their rapidity in raising gas prices. Faster
than you could say “Saddam Hussein”, up
went the prices by about 1/5 of a mark per
litre (14 cents). That in spite of the fact that
the same oil companies have record levels
of petroleum on hand. Fortunately I had
completed most of my driving in Germany
and so had to buy only one tank at the new
price.
After all this I hated to come back to
Canada. At the end of my first trip the
country was agonizing over Meech Lake; at
the end of the second it was the Mohawks
causing the excitement. Whatever happen
ed to quiet, calm Canada. Maybe I should
stay home next year and keep a lid on
things.
now” (what, he didn’t like it at home?).
“Well at least you have other children”.
(As if they can replace the one who died).
Equally well-intentioned people will “tact
fully” (they think) avoid the subject,
hoping not to upset the parent (as if they
will forget the child’s death if no one
mentions it). This leads to awkward
silences, stumbling conversations and
unintentional insults.
The death of a child (whether he is bom
yet or already an adult) is the worst thing a
parent must bear. Parents do not have to
carry this heavy burden alone. On Oct. 29,
1990 a Bereaved Parent Self-Help Group
will be starting at the Wingham Health
Unit Office. The purpose of the group is to
help bereaved parents cope with the death
of their child. If you are a bereaved parent
take that first step and come to the
sessions. There will always be an empty
chair at your table, a hollow feeling in your
heart... but you don’t have to face it alone.
Come with your spouse, come alone, come!
Any questions can be answered by calling
Connie Kuc at 357-2264, Maureen Thomas
at 357-1614, or me at 529-7640.
Jennifer Miltenberg
Letter
from the
editor
It’s tough
saying no
BY KEITH ROULSTON
Bringing up children when there’s not
enough money to buy them all the things
they think they need to keep up with their
peers can be difficult for parents but there
are difficulties for parents with the
affluence to get kids everything their
hearts desire too.
There are parents, particularly in these
toughening economic times, who worry
about keeping clothes on their kids, let
alone just the right kind of blue jeans and
running shoes to fit in at school. It hurts
when you have to say no to kids, to tell
them you can’t afford to get them the
things they just must have to feel part of
the crowd.
But for those parents there is at least a
bottom line. When you can’t afford it, you
can’t afford it. There’s a different problem
for the parent with money to buy the child
what he or she wants who may feel that
some things aren’t needed and doesn’t
have a bottom line. Quite frankly, there are
a lot of things kids think they need that
they’d be better off without but telling
them that, and making it stick, can be
difficult when you have the choice to give
in to prolonged pleading and whining.
It must be a lot like that in trying to run
government service these days. How do
you tell people we can’t afford to do the
things we’ve taken for granted we could do
for years?
Take a look at the constant complaint
about underfunding for health care. We
have a health care system today that would
make a doctor of 20 years ago go
goggle-eyed. Our hospitals have all ex
panded and have spent millions on shiny
new technology. That doctor of 1970 would
think that nothing could be better than
what we have to offer today.
Yet today we read stories day after day
about the faults of the system, the waiting
lists to get cancer treatments, the shortage
of beds and the spiralling costs. The
problem is that we are running out of
money to meet our leaping expectations.
Premature babies, for instance, can be
kept alive at an early stage of their
development today that would have amaz
ed the best doctors of a decade ago. The
problem is cost. It’s tremendously expen
sive to pay for the intensive care and
special equipment needed to keep the baby
alive for weeks or even months until it can
function on its own. But how do you put a
price on a human life?
There are those who say there should be
a user-pay system in health care but do we
want a society where the rich person can
have that premature baby survive but the
poor person must watch it die?
The same thing happens at the other end
of life where people who would have died
months, even years before, now live longer
at far greater cost to the health care system
and you the taxpayer. But who wants to be
the one to tell a person that society has
already invested too much money in him
and it’s time to let him go?
It’s the same in so many areas of society
where the choices aren’t so clearcut. When
a city is accustomed to the best of
everything, how do you tell the arts lovers
of Toronto they really can’t afford the new
opera and ballet hall they think they need
at a price that makes the SkyDome not look
so extravagant after all? After all the
government found money for other thea
tres and concert halls. After all they found
money for the SkyDome (and still are on
the hook for more). How can you tell people
they can’t afford to have more police when
the crime rate seems to be swelling daily?
The problem, of course, is that we’re no
longer in the financial situation of the
affluent family who has to say no. We’re
really in the situation of the family who
can’t afford to say yes but wants to keep
buying anyway.