Village Squire, 1977-10, Page 41McGillicuddy' s Diary
Village Squire presents the exclusive
feature: the diary of Ezekial McGillicuddy,
police chief of the village of Hamhocks,
Ontario. Well known for his courageous
battle against the forces of evil, Chief
McGillicuddy has agreed to give exclusive
rights to his diaryto Village Squire...for a
princely sum of course. Each month we
publish a selection of entries from the
previous month.
SEPT. 1: Poor Amos Becker was crying on
my shoulder today. Amos and Hildegarde
his wife retired this spring and after
months of henpecking, Hildegarde finally
talked Amos into going on a trip with her.
They made reservations to get back to the
old country, put the money down and
everything. Well first they got as far as the
airport in Toronto then got caught because
the air controllers were on strike. Had to
spend two days in the city until the
government finally told those guys they
had to get things going again.
So they got over to England and were
having a great time but when they went to
come back, they got caught in the same
kind of mess over there and spent the last
three days of their holiday in the airport
lounge waiting for their plane to get off the
ground. Amos wasn't too sure he wanted it
to get off the ground at all; thought the way
his luck was going the plane might run into
the side of a mountain, even in the middle
of the North Atlantic. He figures it cost him
about 5300 to see the inside of two airports.
One thing sure, Hildegarde better make
sure the next vacation she plans is by car.
SEPT. 5: They call it Labour Day which, of
course, means nobody labours but in this
country what's so new about that.
Everybody always gets upset about all the
guys like me on the public payroll but if it's
so bad how come they're all off that day
and I'm the one who's working?
And boy am I working. The govern-
ment's always bragging about lowering the
speed limits and saving lives but I don't
think they've been taking their statistics in
this town on holiday weekends. These guys
drive like they were trying to break into the
Grand Prix circuit. Instead of giving them
tickets I'd like to take down their licence
numbers. trace down their addresses and
have a few guys from Hamhocks go down
there and drive around their streets like
they drive here.
SEPT. 6: Halleluiah brother. Peace is here
again. Mothers may look forward to their
kids going back to school but nobody more
than me.
The summer is a killer for a policeman. If
you don't patrol the streets. the kids sit
around half the night and yell and talk and
the neighbours scream. If you do, then
they put all their, energy and imagination
into ways of making you look like a
complete nincompoop.
Once this summer they out the
cockroach (that's what they call that bug
of a cruiser of mine) up on cement blocks.
Then one of the girls called in and said she
needed help that a gang of fanatical
hotrodders were trying to abuse her virtue.
I tore out the door and jumped into the
cruiser and went to take off but the wheels
just started spinning and I stayed right
where I was. I didn't see anybody but I
could hear about 300 kids hooting and
hollering from behind the corner of the
firehall.
I heard later who the girl was who made
the phone call...I didn't need to worry
about saving that girl's virtue too much
anyway.
SEPT. 10: There's a big fuss these days
about this new television show Washington
Behind Closed Doors. People are pretty
shocked at some of the goings on behind
the scenes. Heck they shouldn't be too
surprised. If I wrote a book about what
goes on behind closed doors in this town 1
could have a best seller too. You'd be
surprised at some of the things I find out
while going about the public's business.
For instance, I may finally get a decent
sized police cruiser after all if I have a little
talk with Mayor Lumpsy. He might be
interested in knowing that I recognized the
lady I saw him with out by the cemetery
road last week that dark moonless night.
Police officers tend to develop pretty good
night vision. Of course, on the other hand,
maybe I'd be better to develop a poor
memory to go with the good night vision or
I may be walking the beat, not even riding
in the cockroach.
SEPT. 15: Cindy Lou Quagmire was over
pestering me again. She wanted to ask me
to go with her to the fall fair on Saturday. I
made some excuse about having to be on
duty that day directing traffic. Cindy Lou's
just like all the other people going to the
fair. They want to show off their prize
turnips or prize rooster, she wants to show
off her prize man. She doesn't really own
the man of course (thank goodness) but
then a few of the people don't really own
the prize roosters they're showing either.
SEPT. 25: Rain, rain, rain. It must be a
communist plot I tell you. What else would
explain the fact we had a ridiculous winter
like last year, then a spring that was so hot
and dry it would make you think it was
California then in August we get
monsoons. First the crops don't grow
because they haven't got enough water,
then they rot in the fields because there's
too much water. It must be the commies.
They're probably trying to ruin the North
American potato crop so they'll have the
world Vodka market cornered. 0
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- LISTOWEL
VILLAGE SQUIRE/OCTOBER 1977, 39,