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HomeMy WebLinkAboutThe Citizen, 1992-07-08, Page 51 Arthur Black THE CITIZEN, WEDNESDAY, JULY 8,1992. PAGE 5. \ It’s time for the Silly Season again in news business Here in Canada, the word ‘summer’ is synonymous with a lot of things - suntans, swimming, no school, two weeks at the lake, mosquitoes, gardens ... In the newspaper business, summer means just one thing. It means The Silly Season. We call it that because, come late June or early July, the traditional news sources suddenly evaporate. The National Hockey League season is (barely) over. It's usually too hot to fight wars or stage protest marches. Businesses slow to an equatorial crawl as employees and management types devise ingenious schemes to wangle three or four day weekends. Members of Parliament (always a fertile oasis for stories of graft, duplicity and bedrock stupidity) have closed their Ottawa offices and gone back to their constituencies to answer for their sins. Each summer you'll notice that the front pages of newspapers, which all year were full of solemn articles about the Constitutional Crisis, sundry impending environmental catastrophes and the ongoing For most of us, music plays a big part in our lives I am not sure how many people are acquainted to Schubert's short, but famous, song entitled simply: “To Music.” The melody is one which is difficult to forget, as are the words, which form the basis for this article. Noble art, in how many gloomy hours, when I am caught up in the whirlpool of life, you have kindled the warmth of love in my heart; you have carried me away to a better world .. . Noble Art, for this I thank you. I would imagine that, for most of my readers, music plays a part in their life. How else can you explain, for example, that you tend to sing when you are happy, that we sing, not recite, our national anthem, not to mention all kinds of other events, notably weddings, church services and the like. It is to Schubert himself, that I owe some of my childhood happiness. When you arrive in a new country, things do not always go as smoothly as you might like but I can honestly say that it was a happy day, indeed, for me when I discovered in the attic of the house in which we were living a whole pile of Schubert's songs. I spent hours beside the phonograph listening to them. It was one of those old phonographs which, if I remember correctly, you had to wind up every 1 1/2 records. How times have changed! threat of nuclear proliferation, have been taken over by tales of people frying eggs on sidewalks. Or bungie jumping naked off bridges. Or keeping 14-foot anacondas in their bathrooms. Dopey stories. Goofy stories. Nonsensical stories. Ergo, the Silly Season. Simply put, each summer finds your average newspaper scribbler with not too much to scribble about. So, like a trout fisherman in a played-out pool, we start casting about for smaller fry. We enter a period of prolonged navel-gazing. Which is how, a few weeks ago I came to find myself writing about err .. . navels. Belly buttons, to put it in the vernacular. I mused about what a useless non-appendage the belly button is. I speculated on how long it would take advertisers to make us feel unfulfilled in the belly button department and come up with a produce we could lather on to make us feel more secure in our belly buttonhood. As columns go, it wasn't one I’d submit for a Pulitzer, but it was okay. Amusing. Perfect for the Silly Season. And as I put the finishing touches to it, I remember thinking ‘Well, at least I won't have to answer any letters over this one. ’ Wrong, wrong, wrong. The mail is still coming in. Not hate mail, exactly, but the correspondence does suggest that my knowledge of navels is somewhat inadequate. Or as one writer put it: “Poor Arthur. What you know about navels wouldn't fill a bat's belly button.” In the countries in which I have lived, I have grown accustomed to a wide variety of music. One of the most memorable was the fados of Portugal, which is as close to a folk song as that country comes. By and large the songs are a longing for the glory of times past. I'm not sure how good your history is, but in our day in school we learned about such famous men as Vasco da Gama et Bartholomeu Diaz, the celebrated Portuguese explorers who did such a great deal to put their country on the map. Thus the fados express the feeling of “saudade” or longing for the glories and pleasures of the past: Many of them have haunting melodies and words; they certainly come closer to expressing the emotions of a nation than any others I have heard. Perhaps, if you have a Portuguese friend or two, they will explain these songs to you a bit more than I have. If opera can be said to be a part of any country, it has to be Italy which enjoys that honour. Not surprisingly, many of the most famous composers of this genre are Italian and, even if they were not, the libretto or words are in Italian. It goes without saying that the Italians take their opera very seriously; I am sure that if any singer committed the unpardonable sin of forgetting a line, there are any number ot people in the audience who could supply it immediately. It should come as no surprise to leam that, although the Italians have a national anthem, they also have an unofficial one which comes from Verdie's first important opera, Nebuchadnezzar. During the opera there is a touching chorus, “Va Pensiero,” sung by the Hebrew captives longing to return to their homeland. The Italians could relate to this at the time, being under the control of the Austro-Hungarian A Paris, Ontario writer asked: “Did you know that an American armed forces pamphlet was banned because it contained a drawing of Adam and Eve without navels?” The writer says that some American congressmen were offended by the pamphlet, “claiming it impugned the majesty of the Almighty by implying He created something with no earthly (or heavenly) use, that is, belly buttons.” But when you think about it - why would Adam and Eve have belly buttons? Another correspondent wrote: “I'm surprised you haven't heard about one of the most cherished gifts a bride could receive. I speak of the mink belly button warmer (with a rhinestone in the middle). Makes an excellent gift for Christmas or Thanksgiving ... or whenever the temperature drops below five degrees.” And then there was the letter from a Hamilton umbilicophile. He writes: “Useless? Far from it . . . Arthur, my wife is possessed of one of the great belly buttons in this world. Not only is it in exactly the right place, it is also deep. Very deep. Large enough to hold more than a thimbleful of champagne or or even cognac. This amazing virtue has earned my wife's navel the monker ‘lhe shot glass of heaven’. Arthur, you haven't' truly lived until you've sampled your favourite spirit from the navel of your loved one.” I say, let's hear it for the Silly Season. Now if you'll excuse me, I'm off to buy a mickey of Grand Marnier and a very small mink stole. Empire. The only other country that comes close to this phenomenon is Australia; I would hazard a guess that most people consider “Waltzing Mathilda” to be the national anthem. It is not! All this brings me back to Schubert. It is he, more than any other composer, who is responsible for the popularity of the “Lieder” which is nothing more than the German word for “songs.” Many of them are based on poems written by famous German speaking writers, above all Goethe. Many of them are happy, many are sad but all work on your emotions. Take a look at some of the titles: Flower Language, Lullaby, The Stars, To the Moon, First Loss, Take my Greeting, the list is endless. Perhaps his most famous is an entire cycle of songs, entitled “The Maid of the Mill” in which the young man singing goes through an entire gamut of emotions. I learned during one of my watchings of Star Trek - The New Generation, that the mind has to dream in order to function properly over any period of time. I would venture that we would be far worse off emotionally if we did not have the ability to sing, to listen to singing and to partake in the emotions which such activity arouses. Congreve came closest to it when he said that music has charms to soothe the savage beast, to soften rocks, or bend the knotted oak.” The By Bonnie Gropp Community spirit makes FunFest special I had fun! This past weekend marked another successful FunFest chapter in the Brussels' history books and as usual a good time was had by all. The idea for FunFest took shape five years ago after the village enjoyed a very successful 115th anniversary celebration homecoming. Held the weekend after Canada Day, it was likened by many to a large family picnic. Former residents returned to enjoy some nostalgia, newcomers were treated to some Brussels hospitality. One of the highlights was the presence of John Ainley, a direct descendant of the founder of Brussels, William Henry Ainley. So successful were the four days that it planted the seed in the minds of organizers which eventually spawned the annual FunFest. It took a year to get off the ground, but in 1990, thanks to the efforts of community volunteers, groups and businesses, Brussels hosted its first FunFest, which proved to be as successful as the homecoming two years earlier. Since then, "Ontario's Prettiest Village" has come alive as hordes of people gather for a weekend that keeps you so busy you don't realize you're exhausted. In 1987, when the 115th anniversary was held I had lived in Brussels for 11 years. Living only a short distance from my birthplace (I'm a Listowelite) I never really made an effort to integrate myself into the community because my old friends were still close at hand. Being an introvert, that was easy to do and a good excuse. That weekend, however, one Brussels friend wouldn't let me hide away and thrust me out to experience some of the community friendship in my new home. And that weekend for the first time I began to think of Brussels that way - as my new home. The homecoming, like the FunFests that followed, had the atmosphere of a huge family party. It's no secret that FunFest is never going to be a huge tourist attraction such as events held in other communities. Actually, if you were to stand back and look around it's easy to see that the majority of people in attendance at most FunFest events are Brusselites, past or present, and their guests. When the idea for FunFest began it was with the concept that it be a fundraiser for community betterment thus FunFest is perhaps better described as an example of the spirit that lives in our small towns and villages. Our guests for the weekend were quite impressed with the FunFest and, if their comments were any indication, by the village as a whole. They were greeted warmly by any they met and appeared to have enjoyed themselves immensely. Though attendance was not as high at some events as it has been in other years, due in part I imagine to the many things happening in other places and to the somewhat chilly temperatures, the feeling that has surrounded FunFest from the beginning seems as prevalent now as it did the first year. We should again tip our hats to the people who worked so hard to make it a success. Also, those who demonstrated their support by their participation in this community event should pat themselves on the back. It is that spirit that makes communities such as ours so special.