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HomeMy WebLinkAboutThe Citizen, 1992-11-04, Page 5i Arthur Black THE CITIZEN, WEDNESDAY, NOVEMBER 4,1992. PAGE 5. The Ever wonder where the Gold Rush got its name? Just got back from a trip to Pile O' Bones, Sask. Well, that's what the Indians used to call it. Wascana. It's Plains Cree for Pile O' Bones. When the White Men came to take over the place a couple of centuries ago, they decided the name lacked dignity, so they changed it to the drab and colourless and utterly tight- sphinctered sobriquet of ‘Regina’. I prefer Pile O' Bones. Much more picturesque. Indeed, we Johnny-Come-Latelys owe the natives a lot for some of the more colourful, ‘Canadian’ place names we take for granted. Saskatchewan ... Manitoba ... Ontario - all native Indian names, or corruptions thereof. I grew up in a suburb called Etobicoke just a tomahawk throw from downtown Toronto. ‘Etobicoke’ is a Huron word for “land of the alders”. “Toronto” is a word the Wyandot Indians used to mean “place of plenty”. International Scene Japanese economy vulnerable, too We have heard so many success stories about various Japanese industries that I am sure some of us have come to believe that these industrious Orientals are either superhuman, invincible or both. I have heard it said on a number of occasions, that if we started doing things the way they do in Japan we would be a lot better off. You will not hear me making statements like that since I have never subscribed to the theory of Japanese invincibility. I do admit to having a certain admiration for the way they do some things, but live or work as the Japanese do - never! One industry for which.I have an admittedly deep admiration is their car industry. For openers, I thank them for giving the North American auto manufacturers some top-notch competition for the first time in their life. For far too long the big American producers had things their own way, manipulating the consumer in one way or another, with the result that we had to put up with some pretty shoddy workmanship, not to mention high prices. Not any more! Today consumers have a wide range of automobile producers to choose from. The North American industry is concentrating far more on quality than it ever did before and I think they would be the first to admit they have learned a great deal from the Japanese. They have imitated some of their production methods and, from where I stand, the one which has benefitted most is Ford. There is a bit of a story behind this. I always feel the Big Three are shedding few crocodile tears when they talk of the Kamloops, Medicine Hat, Saskatoon, Winnipeg, Mississauga - there's not a province in the country that doesn’t immortalize the people who first knew this land. Quebec has an Iqualuit and a Maniwaki. New Brunswick has the magnificent Kouchibouguac which means “river of the long tideway” in Micmac. Nova Scotians call Antigonish and Pubnico home. Antigonish translates as “where the branches are torn off.” Pubnico derives from a Micmac word meaning “dry sandy place”. Ever wonder where the ‘Klondike’ Gold Rush got its name? From an Athapaskan phrase which translates roughly as “hammer water”. For centuries nomadic tribes would camp on the shores of the river and hammer long wooden stakes into the river bed to trap salmon during the spring migration. Hence the name. Speaking of spring migrations, the month of May traditionally sees tens of thousands of Torontonians clogging the northbound highways bound for their summer hideouts in Muskoka country. I wonder how many of them know that the name commemorates an ancient Ojibway chief by the name of Misquuckkey? He ruled the place until British bureaucrats flim-flammed him into signing over the land rights back in 1815. Head-Smashed-In-Buff alo-Jump, Musquadoboit Bay, Skookumchuck Rapids, Richibucto Harbour ... the native legacy unravels like a never-ending wampum belt. By Raymond Canon threat of Japanese competition for the simple reason they all own shares in Japanese car companies and have benefitted financially from the latter's successes. For the record Ford is No. 1 in this category for it owns about 25 per cent of all the Mazda shares. In addition to the financial benefits mentioned above, it has learned a great deal about quality production from Mazda and so it should. In my opinion Mazda turns out high quality cars and since the Canon family is on its fourth 6 26, not to mention its second Mazda truck, we believe in putting our money where our logic tells us to. While I put part of this down to our excellent relationship with our local Mazda dealer, the fact that he has continually sold us a high quality product has something to do with it. Admirable as the Japanese car industry has been, this has not prevented it from getting into somewhat of the same cycle that is besetting the economies of the western world right now. It now understands, if it did not before, what Detroit has been feeling for the past two decades or so, that of overcapacity. In short, sales have been plunging in general and most of the big manufacturers in the homeland are now down to one shift. Domestic sales are the lowest they have been in 12 years and Nissan, the second largest producer after Toyota, expects to record its first loss ever. Part of the problem is that the Japanese economy is now in a substantial downturn and, as it is in North America, when the economy is in trouble, so is the car industry. But there are other things contributing to the downturn which have little directly to do with the business cycle. In 1970 Japanese labour costs were about 40 per cent of those in North America but that is now history. Right now there is little to choose between such costs in either market. In addition, the Japanese stock market has been going through a major correction and in a downward direction and Mind you, some limes you get fooled. I spent some years in northwestern Ontario partly because I fell in love with the wonderful Indian names that adorned the place. Shuniah, Nipigon, Bathcawana ... I particularly liked the name of a northern town called Nolalu. And a park I loved to canoe in: Quetico. It was a couple of years before I discovered that ‘Nolalu’ was an acronym for a no-nonsense firm of tree haulers called Northern Lake and Lumber. Later I discovered that ‘Quetico’, is what was stamped on logs owned by the Quebec Timber Company. You can't always believe your eyes. Take the town of Twillingate, out in Newfoundland. Was there ever a more English-sounding name? Twillingate. Virtually reeks of brollies and bowlers and stiff-upper-lippery, eh wot? Well, not really. Turns out it derives from a French place name - Pointe de Toulinguet, in Brittany. Well, how about that quintessentially Indian name? The one used by the New York state city of ... Buffalo? Sorry, Cocheese. The city actually gets its name from an Anglicized corruption of a French phrase - Beau Fleuve - which means ‘beautiful river.’ Just as well we forgot that, I guess. Who'd ever pay to watch a football team called the Beautiful River Bisons? the era of cheap capital in that country has come to an end, at least for the time being. In an industry such as the manufacture of cars where large dollops of capital are essential, this downturn is yet another minus for the country. Even the famous Just In Time delivery, which originated in Japan and which has been widely imitated in North America, is in trouble. Increasing traffic congestion in most Japanese cities has made such delivery much more difficult than in the past; the frequency of delivery has already been cut and, in a market which prides itself on its ability to respond quickly to the demands of Japan's choosy customers, such cut-backs just add to the problems. In short, the Japanese, in spite of their successes, are decidedly human when it comes to the business cycle. This is not to indicate that good times are once again ahead for North American producers, such as a fitting retirement for Lee Iacocca. Simply, if misery loves company, there is much more to go around these days in the car industry. Looking back Continued from page 4 in Cornwall. Reverend David Fuller formerly of St. George's in London became the new minister at Brussels' St. John's and Blyth's Trinity Anglican Churches. Shannon Hallahan of RR 3, Blyth and her championship calf Weirholme Warden Habby won the Grand Champion award at the Little Royal in Walkerton. FIVE YEARS AGO November 4,1987 Fire caused very heavy damage to the home of Terry and Gail Sproul on the 10th of Grey township, just at the junction of County Rds. 16 and 19. A rare event took place on the Westfield area farm of Jim and Lorraine Hallahan when triplet calves, all heifers, were bom. Short of it By Bonnie Gropp And it’s only November! Well, I'm here, so I guess the end of the world didn't come about on Hallowe'en as predicted by a brainwashed young cultist. At least, I didn't think it had until I opened the door Monday morning only to be hit by a blast of crummy weather and the realization that winter is definitely approaching whether I want it to or not. It wasn't that long ago when I anticipated winter with as much enthusiasm as Jack Frost. I scoffed at those less hardy individuals who chose to spend their winters in sunnier climes, who didn't look forward to the challenge of facing another bone­ chilling, snowblasting Huron winter. Bad enough they boost another country's economy, but how boring, I thought then, to choose a life of summertime. To not want to experience the sparkling beauty of a world bleached to white perfection seemed at best to me insane. The fun of building snowforts, making angels and throwing snowballs surpassed anything that summer had to offer. I hated the blandness of greenery, the humidity and the insects, not to mention the other sordid looking creatures that hop from hibernation as temperatures warm. The thrill of exhilarating winter sport epitomized life at its best. Everything appeared faster and cleaner. Yes, that was then, but this is now. My husband blames it on age and while I have never been willing to give in to the fact I am getting older, I have to admit there is certainly something very, very wrong here. The cold which enters my bones already has benumbed me to the point where I am at its mercy. There are not enough sweaters, not enough socks to keep me warm. My sleep is disturbed by my chattering teeth, my nose an ice cube attached to my face. I ache from the dampness and chill in areas that have never hurt before. My limbs feel as if they have been strained from exertion, while in actuality, I'm not brave enough to crawl out from under my comfy bag to exercise. And it's only November! The idea of digging out from under mounds of snow, freezing my fingers while scraping five inches of ice off my windshield each day or driving in milky blizzards adds trembles of trepidation to my already shivering self. I have tried to recapture the magic over the last few years. I climb aboard a snowmobile with feigned enthusiasm knowing all the while that within a few short minutes my benumbed fingers and toes will have ruined the party for everyone. I bundle myself up to take a walk on a frosty winter day to find that, even wearing a hat, my ears begin to ache. Not even the titillating experience of having your nostrils stick together in the cold is as much fun as it was when you were young. So you see, I am in a conundrum. The idea of taking my money south of the border each winter and living summer year round are not options for me as I find them still equally disagreeable. However, as it stands now, each winter (forgive my melodramatics,) is becoming more and more to me like the end of the world. I must find a way to warm my body so 1 may again be warmed by the frosted beauty which held me spellbound not all that long ago.