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The Citizen, 1999-01-13, Page 5Arthur Black THE CITIZEN, WEDNESDAY, JANUARY 13, 1999. PAGE 5. How dumb do they think we are? I was just thinking back to the very first automobile in my life - a 1952 Pontiac two- door sedan ... robin's egg blue with a black top. It belonged to my old man and I was far too young to drive it, but I would sit in the driver's seat, parked in the driveway, peering balefully between the spokes of the steering wheel, and if I was reasonably sure my pop was snoozing on the couch, I'd even risk tapping the horn rim. That old '52 Pontiac was slow and heavy - not the least bit cool but it had something you won't find on a modern-day Lamborghini or a Lexus, or for that matter on a 1999 Pontiac. It was simple. Even an idiot had a reasonable chance of fixing mechanical problems on that car. You opened the hood and there was the Agriculture at the brink On a clear, quiet day I can look out my window and almost see and hear Poland, not to mention Slovakia. My curiosity about Polish farming got the better of me and I decided to find out a little more about it, especially since it is reported to be in serious difficulty as the country gets ready to join the European Union. Far more than their counterparts in the Czech Republic, Poles are occupied at tilling the soil (27 per cent of the labour force in Poland is made up of farmers, compared to five per cent of the Czech workers). This means that there are almost 4,000,000 farmers, many of whom operate as follows: they own a farm of about 10 to 15 acres where they produce enough on which to live, as well as sell a bit on the open market. Unfortunately, as with many other things, farm prices are depressed and what the farmers earn frequently does not even equal the cost of production, low as it may be in Poland. One farmer, who has three generations of the family living in his home, operates a 15- acre farm on which he earns the equivalent of engine, laid out like a display model in mechanic's shop. The carburetor looked like a carburetor. The fuel pump looked like a fuel pump. You could actually see the spark plugs and the distributor and figure out what connected to what. Open the hood of a modem car and what do you see? Modules - sleek, spot-welded plastic boxes, sealed and impenetrable. Plus a neated, printed advisory in English, French and Japanese telling you that your warranty is void if anyone other than a certified mechanic lays a finger on these innards. We are encouraged to believe that we are simply not smart enough to handle the machines we own nowadays ... and perhaps that's even true. You'd certainly think so from the instructions that come with new products. On a hairdryer my wife bought: DO NOT USE WHILE SLEEPING On a frozen chicken dinner in my freezer: SERVING SUGGESTION: DEFROST On a package of mixed nuts I received on a recent flight with American Airlines: INSTRUCTIONS^!) OPEN PACKAGE By Raymond Canon $1,500 a year producing rye, wheat, potatoes, and strawberries. He readily admits that a monthly pension of $200 makes all the difference in their living. He cannot afford to buy sufficient quantities of fertilizer and seed so is starting to leave some of his land fallow. The farming that is currently done, he says, could likely be handled by one of the four people of working age who live there. Of the almost 4 million people working on farms, about half of those could be removed even before Poland joins the European Union without having a negative effect on Poland's farm output. After all, the 27 per cent who are currently employed manage to produce only six per cent of the country's GDP, so that slack is evident to everybody. The government has publicly admitted this and, to date, the number of farms has been reduced by about 10 per cent. However, even the farmers who remain can see the handwriting on the wall. Meanwhile, the European Union, which is prepared to accept Poland into its fold and thereby affect the lives of most Polish farmers has big problems of its own. Farm populations in Germany and France may now be down to 3 to 5 per cent, far below the Polish number, but their entire industry is beset by the huge costs of subsidies and farm support prices. Western European taxpayers are starting to (2) EAT NUTS. On a box containing a portable steam iron: DO NOT IRON CLOTHES ON BODY. On a bar of Dial Soap: INSTRUCTIONS: USE LIKE REGULAR SOAP. On a supermarket package of Tirimisu dessert: DO NOT TURN UPSIDE DOWN Unfortunately the aforementioned advice was printed on the bottom of the box - you had to turn it upside down to read it. Sometimes I fear that humankind is going the way of the Dodo bird - becoming too dumb to live. Reminds me of the joke about the loud­ mouthed New Yorker who finds himself in the Mexican town of Ouxaca. He looks at the name, grumbles, spits and then marches into a nearby takeout restaurant, barges to the front of the line and shouts at the waitress, "Lookit sweetie, I'm inna hurry. I wandfia to tell me the name of this place here ... and I wancha ta say it slow ... and loud okay?" The waitress looks at the New Yorker, shrugs, cups her hand around his left ear and yells, "BURRRRRRRRRRRGHER KIIIHIIHIIING!" notice much of their taxes go to those programs and how much the programs add to the prices of food in the stores. (Canadian food prices are bargains in comparison.) The European Union's Common Agricultural Policy (CAP) costs taxpayers the huge sum of $75 billion a year, and the prices charged bear no resemblance to world prices. In the next round of trade talks under the World Trade Organization, agriculture will be high on the agenda, and the European Union knows that the CAP, in its current condition, cannot survive nor come even close. What to do? There is some fast and furious thinking going on in the capitals of Western Europe. They don't want to offend the farmers too much but offend them they must. Even while Western Europe tries to get its agricultural house in order, the Poles, not to mention the Czechs and the Hungarians, are watching carefully to see what the outcome is. A Final Thought If we had no winter, the spring would not be so pleasant; if we did not sometimes taste of adversity, prosperity would not be so welcome. -Anne Bradstreet The Short of it By Bonnie Gropp Why take chances? I have Figured out what bothers me about this whole winter mess — when it comes to life I like to be in the driver's seat. And this past week I have certainly been reminded. I'm sure you'd agree rather emphatically, that with regards to living I am clearly not the one in control. Accustomed to routine, to establishing as much order as possible into my daily regimen, I suddenly found myself dancing to the tune blown by that capricious minstrel Old Man Winter. Uncertain how to begin my day and where it would end, any move I made was slowed by the weight of winter wear and scads of snow blowing across and burying everthing in its path. Compounding this frustration is an intensifying terror of getting caught out in the maelstrom, travelling blinded by whiteouts on roads plugged by drifts. No desire to move forward and no way to turn around. So, often in guilt I sat, refusing to get behind the wheel wondering if I was simply a weenie. And it didn't help that the fearless are undaunted by any blizzard. "It's not so bad," was my warrior's charge as he travelled, without fail, back and forth to London during the worst. But then again, I wonder, if such behaviour isn't so much fearless as feckless. Having not always been such a coward, there were times in the past when the elements held little threat for me either. I recall a trip from Kitchener down a closed highway, and another harrowing adventure through Michigan. There were many other occasions when I moved submerged behind walls of white, only to resurface and discover myself on the wrong side of the road or heading for the ditch. And after each, though smugly triumphant, I would vow never again. But practice, I would think, does make perfect and as a colleague recently noted, the reality is often a bit like doing dishes, not so bad when you actually get started. But I keep coming back to one question — why do we risk it? Is there anything important enough to make us tempt fate, to challenge the elements and ignore the warnings? Isn't it better to miss something once then lose your life trying to get to it? Because much as we like to think otherwise, travelling in snowstorms is a bit risky. Probably I was less reluctant when younger because as eveyone knows a symptom of youth is the feeling of invincibility. But, with maturity has come the knowledge that things can and do happen to me. Obviously, we have to keep living and can't let fear shut us down. But, as I listened to the road reports, heard the police ask drivers to stay off the road, and the radio's dire predictions of worsening weather, I was puzzled to see the number of people who continued to make trips for absolutely senseless reasons. "I just came in to do some banking and let me tell you it was bad," one reported. Another decided to come for coffee and couldn't see to turn back. Maybe I am a big coward, but I have to question why take the chance. After all, that's one thing I can control.