The Citizen, 1997-12-17, Page 22PAGE 22. THE CITIZEN, WEDNESDAY, DECEMBER 17,1997.
For Teens, By Teens
Christmas poem
By Mark Nonkes
Here's something to add a
chuckle to your Christmas. Surfing
the net I came upon a site the
politically correct Twas the Night
Before Christmas.
Twas the night before Christmas
and Santa's a wreck ...
How to live in a world that's
politically correct?
His workers no longer would
answer to "Elves".
"Vertically Challenged"
they were calling themselves.
And labour conditions at the
North Pole
Were alleged by the union to
stifle the soul.
Four reindeer had vanished,
without much propriety,
Released to the wilds by the
Humane Society.
And equal employment had
made it quite clear
That Santa had better not
use just reindeer.
So Dancer and Donner,
Comet and Cupid,
Were replaced with four pigs, and
you know that looked stupid!
The runners had been removed
from his sleigh;
The ruts were termed
dangerous by the EPA
And people had started to
call for the cops
When they heard sled noises
on their roof-tops.
Second-hand smoke from his pipe
had his workers quite frightened.
His fur trimmed red suit
was called "Unenlightened."
And to show you the strangeness
of life's ebbs and flows,
Rudolf was suing over
unauthorized use of his nose
And had gone on Geraldo,
on front of the nation,
Demanding millions in
over-due compensation.
So, half of the reindeer
were gone; and his wife,
Who suddenly said she'd
enough of his life,
Joined a self-help group,
packed, and left in a whiz,
Demanding from now
on her title was Ms.
And as for the gifts, why,
he'd ne'er had a notion
That making a choice could
cause so much commotion.
Nothing of leather, nothing of fur,
Which meant nothing for him.
And nothing for her.
Nothing that might be
construed to pollute.
Nothing to aim. Nothing to shoot.
Nothing that clamored or
made lots of noise.
Nothing for just girls.
Or just for the boys.
Nothing that claimed to
be gender specific.
Nothing that's warlike or non-pacific.
No candy or sweets ...
they were bad for the tooth.
Nothing that seemed to
embellish a truth.
And fairy tales,
while not yet forbidden,
Were like Ken and Barbie,
better off hidden.
For they raised the hackles
of those psychological
Who claimed the only good
gift was one ecological.
No baseball, no football ...
someone could get hurt;
Besides, playing shorts
exposed kids to dirt.
Dolls were said to be sexist,
and should be passe;
And Nintendo would rot
your entire brain away.
So Santa just stood there,
disheveled, perplexed;
He just could not figure
out what to do next.
He tried to be merry, tried to be gay,
Continued on page 23
By Erin Roulston
I've always been aware of
poverty, the homeless, the people
who live on the streets. I've seen
them on TV and in movies and
such, and I always felt concern and
pity for the poor. I would think, "I
wish I could help. Maybe someday
when I'm rich."
I recently spent a day in Toronto
with three friends. We took the
train from Stratford and rode on the
subway and walked down Yonge
Street.
In the midst of all the shops and
traffic and street cars, as the
businesspeople in their expensive
designer suits rushed by, there was
a dishevelled and dirty-looking
woman, wrapped in layers of ratty
clothes curled up in her sleeping
bag on the comer of the sidewalk.
There was a blind man in a broken
wheelchair, evidently parked there
for the day, a paper cup is his
source for income.
That and a sign: Please help a
blind man have a Merry Christmas.
We stopped for lunch at Taco
Bell. As we sat eating I looked out
the window onto Yonge Street. I
saw a tall, thin man, with stooped
shoulders, long, dirty hair, wearing
a long, worn trenchcoat with boots
duct-taped together. He walked
with a shuffle into the restaurant. I
watched him very closely.
Something about the look on his
face, made me so sad. He looked
tired. Very tired. He also looked
lost. Something in his eyes made
him seen distant, like he was in his
own little world.
The man shuffled around the
restaurant, setting cards on the table
in front of each patron. The card
said something like this "Hello. I
am a deaf person. I am selling these
cards for any amount of money you
can give" there was more on the
other side, but I was afraid to turn it
over.
The man then shuffled around the
small space to retrieve the cards.
Not a single card was bought. In
fact nobody in the entire restaurant
seemed to acknowledge the man's
presence. He was completely
ignored by everyone in the
restaurant except for my friends
and I.
They didn't even read the card.
I did not give him any money.
All I had was enough for my
subway ride and for supper. I
couldn't really spare any cash.
But I could. That poor man likely
hadn't eaten all day.
My friends and I went to see the
new musical, Rent, that is playing
at the Royal Alexandra on King
Street. The play is about a group of
struggling artists in New York.
They are poor. They can't afford
their rent, or electricity bills.
But there are also those in the
play who are poorer. At one point
in the show they sing a song.
Will 1 Lose My Dignity,
Will Someone Care?
Will I Wake Tomorrow
From this Nightmare?
After seeing what I had that day,
this song brought a tear to my eye.
I can't even imagine what that
life would be like. Struggling every
day, wondering when the
nightmare will end.
As we left the theatre, standing
among the masses of teenagers,
were two homeless men, with signs
and cups. I felt terrible as I passed
by them. I got pushed right up to
one. I apologized for bumping him,
but I couldn't look into his eyes.
They were so sad. So cold.
A week later I saw his picture on
the front page of the Arts Section
of the Globe and Mail. His name is
Warren Grill. He was posing with
his sign and cup underneath the
Marquee for Rent.
He has travelled to Europe, South
America and the Caribbean, the
story says. He has a degree in
horticulture from Guelph
University, he once had $20,000 in
the bank.
I don't understand.
I don't know why people are
homeless, I don't know why an
educated man can't find a job. I
don't see how a person, in a free
country, can live such a meagre
life.
I know people with a Grade 10
education who can find jobs. They
are terrible jobs. Very hard work
and minimum wage, but it's money.
It buys food and a roof.
Why can't they get jobs? I don't
understand. It can't be because they
are too lazy; that would mean they
choose to suffer in this lifestyle.
Why can't the deaf man get
disability? Or welfare? Isn't that
what it's for? To help the poor to
get back on their feet?
If it's because they are too proud
for a handout, what do they think
the cup collects? Why can't they
just take the help, for now, until
they get a job?
I had a great time in Toronto. It
was a lot of fun, but I came home
with this terrible sorrow. I've lived
a life sheltered from all of those
terrible things, and now that I've
seen them, all I want to do is help.
I just don't know how.
Music review
High-energy Goldfinger
promotes anti-racism
By Ashley Gropp
On Sunday, Dec. 7, Goldfinger, a
four-person Ska band, played live
in Kitchener at the Lyric.
After a DJ played a variety of
music for a while, the opening band
came on. They were a local "metal"
band and although they played
well, they did not suit the style of
the crowd, which was made up of
mostly 16-year-old skateboarders.
I spent their entire set standing. It
was so high energy from the very
first chord that the mosh pit was
crammed full. From the floor you
could almost get close enough to
reach out and touch them. Those
who dared, could get up and stage
dive (security wasn't kicking
anyone out for that)
The high energy remained all
through Goldfinger's set. They
covered everything from
Chumbawamba's Tubthumping to
Knowledge by Operation Ivy.
Goldfinger who is very anti
racism, (in fact most of the
paraphernalia sold at the concert
promoted their anti-racism stand.)
They denounced put downs and
bands like Guns and Roses for
being racists and told their
audience that nobody should
support that kind of bigotry.
In my opinion though, the best
part of the concert, was probably
the fans. Not only were they
energetic and having a great time,
but they were considerate. When a
person fell in the mosh pit, they
immediately had several people
reach down and pull them to their
feet.
Despite the fact I went to the
concert having only ever heard one
Goldfinger song, I have now
decided that their CD is one of the
ones that I want most.
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