Village Squire, 1978-10, Page 32McGILLKUDDY'S DIARY
VWage 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 diary to Village Squire...for a
princely sum of course. Each month we
publish a selection of entries from the
previous month.
SEPT.2: I see the federal government's at
this cost-cutting thing again. I wish they'd
knock it off. Not that I mind them saving
tax money, mind you, it's just that
everytime they decide to cut taxes the town
council here seems to get the idea and
every time they think of cutting taxes they
look at the police department.
Councillor Harris was hinting about that
the other night at the council meeting. I
asked her how she could cutback on the
budget when there wasn't any budget in
the first place. She didn't think that was
funny. Didn't council just buy me a new
police cruiser last year? No, I said, they
bought a large skate board with a roof.
That little mini car they bought me
refuses to fall apart though, inspite of my
hitting every pothole the town public works
department can put in the streets. I think
it's doing it just to spite me. Really, I'm not
looking forward to winter coming on. The
darn thing's so small and our snow's so
deep that I have to spend the first few
minutes every day looking for the car.
Anyway, back to the budget cuts. I
suggested the council could save some
money by cutting out the councillors'
annual big bash at the Lamplight Hotel,
but Mayor Lumpy said that the councillors
worked for virtually nothing and that bash
was one of the few compensations. I know
how they feel: I work for so little that I feel
like going out and getting drunk myself,
except I can't get the taxpayers to pick up
the tab so I can't afford to. Maybe I should
run for council.
SEPT. 10: School's back in and already
Susan Appleby, that cute teacher up at the
school is ready to quit. The little gaffers
have been putting her through her paces.
The poor girl is only teaching grade
three but somehow the grade three kids
seem to be a little older than in my day.
She caught one young guy with a copy of
Playboy magazine in his desk the other
day, and one of the girls asked when they
could start studying The Diviners.
SEPT. 13: The Hamhocks Herald has a new
reporter and she's out to make a big name
for herself right off. The kid's only out of
college a couple of months but she thinks
she's a combination of Gordon Sinclair and
Woodword and Bernstein. She's got an
article in the paper today that says the local
government is full of waste and corruption.
She says the politicians are getting fat at
the expense of the poor people. Well I've
PG.30. VILLAGE SOUIRE/OCTOBER 1978.
noticed that Mayor Lumpy's been putting
on a few pounds lately but I didn't think
she'd better say anything about Councillor
Harris or Sally Hemple or she's apt to find
out how tough politics can be. Both those
ladies have spent a lot of money over at the
country club this summer with tennis and
swimming lessons to get that lean and
hungry look.
Anyway, I was having a good laugh at
the expense of the town council while
reading this article and thinking that this
girl was the best thing to happen to the
Herald in years (and the best thing to
decorate the streets of Hamhocks too
because she certainly doesn't look like
Gordon Sinclair) when she pranced into my
office and demanded to know what the
police department was doing to justify its
huge budget. How many speeding tickets
had I handed ou't,in the last month? I told
her two: one to a speeding bicycle on the
Mill Street hill and one to a little lady in an
old Vauxhall who was going 32 miles an
hour in a 30 mile an hour zone.
Didn't I think that was pretty poor
performance for the money the tax payers
were paying she asked. 1 said I'd gladly
have given out more speeding tickets if I
could have caught anybody but with that
little police cruiser the taxpayers had
bought me those were the only speeders I
could catch. She said I must be joking. I
invited her to come for a ride in the cruiser
and find out for herself. She smiled and
said no thank you as if she suspected a plot
on my part to compromise her. Now why
didn't I think of that?
Anyway she ended up by demanding
public access to the names of all those
charged for the paper every week. She
didn't want me trying to cover up for
anybody or their sons or daughters, she
said. She said she wanted to uncover
everything. I guess from the look in my eye
she knew she'd said the wrong thing and
quickly left. Mythis town could get a little
more interesting in the next while.
SEPT. 18: I drove over to Talbot today and
happened to see an O.P.P. safety testing
lane set up. I volunteered to put the
cockroach through. Darned thing passed.
SEPT. 26: The big plowing match is up
there in Wingham this year and some of
the local farmers are really looking forward
to it. Mike Mulligan just outside of town is
one of the best plowmen in the county and
he's going to be there. So is old Joe
Hannigan who still prides himself in his
ability to use horses to plow.
Mayor Lumpy's been getting ready too.
He wants to win the prize for mayors at the
match this year. He figures he should have
a head start because he's been doing a lot
of plowing in the last tew years with one of
those overgrown toy tractors they're
selling for gardens these days. I tried to
explain to him that the real thing was a
little different but he figured it would be an
easy thing to master.
Well he had Mike Mulligan drop by the
other night with his tractor and plow so he
could just sit in the seat and familiarize
himself with the controls. Then he decided
to get a little braver and plow up part of his
garden where the cucumbers had been
before the frost got them.
Mike kept asking him if he thought it
was a good idea and the Mayor kept saying
everything was under control. It was too
until he got to the end of the row and went
to push the leaver to bring the plow up and
instead hit the gas lever. He plowed right
through the new board fence he'd just put
up this summer and on onto the lawn of
Frank Vanderwylie. the latvyer and right
through the grape vines he's been lovingly
tending all this summer so he could make
some wine.
It wasn't all bad. Mike told him that if he
laid as nice a furrow at the match as he did
across Vanderwylie's lawn, he'd win for
sure. 0
M. Nott
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