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HomeMy WebLinkAboutThe Citizen, 1994-05-18, Page 5Arthur Black THE CITIZEN, WEDNESDAY, MAY 18, 1994. PAGE 5. The Short Wasting loot on useless gifts Il was with mixed emotions that I received the news that Aunt Myrtle had passed away. Mixed, because Aunt Myrtle was a sweet, harmless old crone who had never, in 83 years, done an intentional nasty to another earthling. On the other hand, she was responsible for the ugliest present I ever saw. It was truly hideous. A moose clumsily handcrafted from lucite, standing on a chunk of paving stone intended to represent a rocky summit somewhere on the Precambrian shield. And Aunt Myrtle gave it to me as a wedding present. Which of course meant I couldn't have the horror melted down into a bowling ball, or leave it out by the curb to await adoption by some passerby with even lousier taste than Aunt Myrtle, no. I had to keep the damned thing, on the off chance that Aunt Myrtle might drop in and wonder why it wasn't standing over the fireplace. No more, hurrah. Aunt Myrtle has gone to her reward and the mutant moose is about to, just as soon as I can score a cardboard box International Scene By Raymond Canon Can coal make a comeback ? When I arrived in this country, I recall very vividly one of my duties; it was to make sure that the coal scuttle was filled at all times. The big stove in the centre of the house had a voracious appetite, probably because winters tended to be colder then and also because the stove heated the whole house, with the exception of the kitchen. Times do change; how many kids today can claim to having to do the same chore? If times change as far as energy is concerned, let me tell you why. The first major source of energy this planet knew was wood; we stopped using wood and switched to coal, not because we ran out of trees but simply because coal was more efficient. We then switched from coal to oil for exactly the same reason; there was, in fact, a huge supply of coal at the end of the last century. There still is for that matter, but more of that in a moment. It is highly likely that some day we will switch from oil to something else for exactly the same reason as we did twice in the past. That is not as illogical as it sounds; for one thing oil is getting harder and more expensive to find. In addition it is guilty of causing pollution, and we are at a time when we are becoming increasingly conscious of the environment. What, you may ask, is the most likely major source of energy to replace oil? As it happens, I have an answer. It is hydrogen and if you think about it for a minute, you will understand why. Just remember where you read about it first. However, back to coal. As I pointed out above, there was plenty of coal in the ground when we switched to oil and we used it for a number of things for about half of this big enough to hold it. Unwanted gifts. Did you ever wonder how much loot we waste on gifts we give to people who hate them? Those fluorescent ties all Dads get at Christmas and on Father's Day? The bottles of perfume you wouldn't use on a skunk-sprayed dog? The plaid socks? The hardcover books even the author's mother wouldn't read? The fondue sets? The lucite mooses? Well, wonder no more. I don't know how much we Canucks throw away on such stuff, but an economics professor at Yale University has calculated that of the $40 billion Yanks spend each year swapping presents back and forth, somewhere between $4 billion and $10 billion is thrown away on stuff the recipient hates on sight - a "deadweight loss" is how Professor Waldfogel describes it. And it's not just useless gifts. When it comes to ethnic protocol, some gifts are downright offensive. It is a profoundly bad idea to gift wrap a Black Forest Ham for an Israeli, or to give a miniskirt to an orthodox Muslim. Don't ever give cowboy boots to a Hindu - not if they're made out of cowhide. Cows are sacred beasts in India. Some gift gaffes are less obvious. You can insult a Japanese businessman by offering him a souvenir letter opener. Symbolically, you're advising him to century, and still do. There has been a considerable amount of research done on the matter and, as a result, it is expected that, before the coming century is very old, electricity plants will be able to use coal twice as efficiently as they do now. Unless natural gas manages to show some increase in productivity, coal will rival it in efficiency. You may not know it but Canada is one of the four leading coal exporters in the world, with the other three being the United States, Australia and South Africa. World prices have been dropping for the past 15 years. At the beginning of the 1980s, they were about $100 a tonne (metric ton); right now they are less than half that. Coking coal, which makes up the bulk of our exports, with Japan being by far the principal buyer, has just dropped about eight per cent more in price and it has reached the point where some people are wondering if there is any money to be made at the present time. However, one of the benefits of a falling exchange rate, as far as Canadians are concerned, is that if effectively reduces the price of all our exports, including coal, and we may be able to find a market where other exporters can't. Another advantage that may serve coal well in the long run is that there is no cartel- like organization running the product as there is with oil, where OPEC really drove up prices starting in 1973. Neither does it depend on vulnerable pipelines which can be put out of action at the drop of a terrorist's home-made bomb. Referring back to the four major exporters, whose names I gave above, three out of the four have very stable governments while the other, South Africa, looks like it might just join that group. Stability, after all, is one thing that any commodity needs if production is to be held at a high level. China has frequently been cited as a country which could have a huge demand for commit hara kiri. And don't show up on a Guatemalan doorstep with a fistful of white flowers. In Guatemala, white flowers are for funerals. It's an altogether tricky business, giving gifts. It reminds me of the story of Phil Silvers, the American comedian who gained TV immortality as Sergeant Bilko. Silvers was a very wealthy man, and reputed to be "the man who has everything". But he had a wealthier friend who was determined to buy Silvers a present that would wow him. The friend invited Silvers to spend a weekend at his mansion in Beverley Hills. Silvers showed up Friday night at the wheel of a magnificent burgundy Rolls Royce Silver Cloud. "My mechanic's not busy this weekend" said the host, "Why don't you let him give your car a little tune-up?" Silvers shrugged assent. Unknown to the comedian, his car was whisked away to a garage where a team of experts worked around the clock to install a built-in mahogany bar, a hi-fi system, a colour television and a VCR. On Sunday evening as Silvers was preparing to depart, his host has his renovated car brought around to the front. "You might want to check out your jalopy" murmured the host, "just to see if it runs any better." "Ah, who cares?" replied Silvers, "It's only a rental." foreign goods, although the products emphasized are generally either consumer goods or for capital investment. Coal is never mentioned but south China has an energy demand that is growing rapidly and the Chinese are well acquainted with that product to fire its power generation stations. In short, coal may have given place to oil almost a century ago but there is no sign yet that it will go the same way as wood as a major source of energy. Paul’s Perspective Continued from page 4 yet - I can't comment on specifics. Generally, the legislation will prevent discrimination of same-sex couples under the human rights code and will give same- sex couples the same rights and responsibilities as common-law heterosexual couples. When the Bill is presented, copies will be available at my constituency office. Before deciding how I will vote, I would welcome your comments. If you have an opinion one way or the other, feel free to write or call my office. Got a beef? The Citizen welcomes letters to the editor. They must be signed and should be accompanied by a telephone number should we need to clarify any information. of it By Bonnie Gropp I Take me out to the ball game Writing this as I am on Monday afternoon there's little indication when I look outside that summer is on its way. Yet this weekend we unofficially mark its arrival with Victoria Day, the first long weekend of the warm season. The weather is not the only thing, however, keeping less seasonal thoughts in my mind. Every day I hear constant reports from the media, and my two sons, on the latest hockey playoff scores. My eldest assures me that as a true Canadian I have to be interested in the Stanley Cup playoffs. I might have been — in March. Quite frankly, once the snow is gone, and for this I apologize to my fellow hosers, the last thing I'm interested in is hockey, Canada's pasttime or not. I’m not much of a hockey fan anymore. Once an enthusiastic Leafs lover, who remembers Johnny Bower and Eddie Shack only too well, too many teams and too much rough stuff killed my desire to watch. And besides, with my aversion to anything cold, all that ice has negative connotations for me. No, as anti-Canadian as it may be, my favourite sport is the one adored, and claimed, by our neighbours to the south — baseball. In explaining to my son why we are going to watch the Jays on TV before we'll watch a hockey playoff, I said that, besides the fact I own the television, I need to watch the game for my well-being. It makes me feel good because I love everything about it — the slap of the ball as it hits the mitt, the crack of the bat, the balletic acrobatics of the defense. It's a rush for me, I say, but he argues that you can't get that feeling from watching, it comes only from playing. Imagine how dumbfounded he was when I emphatically agreed. The memories that those sounds and sights conjure up arc what make the game so special to me. It's maybe been a few years (quite a few if I'm honest) since I've played baseball, but I remember them as some of the best. The other evening we watched the movie The Sandlot, about a rag-tag group of boys in the early 60s who get together to play ball every day in a vacant lot. Which is the same way I, and other people from my generation, learned to play the game. My parents built their home in a new subdivision. Kitty corner behind us was a small old house, which was eventually moved, leaving a large vacant space where every day, as soon as the snow melted, the kids in the neighbourhood met with bat, ball and gloves in hand. There was no organized team, no well-lit diamond, no bleachers, no fans and no coaches. There were no egos, either. We were just a group of friends who played the game as best we could, some better than others mind you, and had a great deal of fun. It was the enchantment of summertime and a sense of security and freedom rolled into one. We knew this was always there for us with no strings attached. We didn't have to show up to play; we just did. Maybe I would have liked hockey better if I'd had the chance to play it, but girls where I came from could only watch. Perhaps that's why when I'm watching a sport today, I'll pick the one that reminds me of summer fun and being on the field, not shivering in the stands.