The Citizen, 1999-10-27, Page 5Arthur Black
Sorry, wrong number
The first cordless phone I ever saw was the
size and weight of a twenty-sixer. It cost its
trendy owner somewhere around $3,000.
Plus whatever he paid for subsequent hernia
operations.
That was back in the early '80s.
Today, I can pick up a cell phone the size of
a deck of cards with 10 times the reception of
that early model and it won’t cost me a dime -
if I sign a binding service contract.
Progress?
Millions think so. I’m not so sure.
Cell phone mania is galloping through
society like a bad ‘flu bug. In the U.S., one
company - Sprint - is signing up 8,000 new
customers a day.
Some genius has figured out that somewhere
in North America, someone is buying a cell
phone every 37 minutes.
And it’s not just us. Last year 121 million
cell phones were sold around the world.
That’s four times the population of Canada,
folks.
Not just the Upper Crust either. Pizza
delivery men carry ‘em. So do housewives and
sales reps and school kids. They’re
everywhere.
International Scene
- — ——_ .
By Raymond Canon
Determination
is the key
One day when I was in Kingsville, heading
to the harbour area, I passed a lady walking
vigorously with the aid of a walker along the
sidewalk. When I came back a short while
later she had almost reached the downtown
area, a not inconsiderable effort on her part. I
was much impressed by all this and mentioned
it to the staff at The Reporter, the local
newspaper.
They were not surprised. They knew at
once who it was and told me that they
had often seen her out walking. She lived
in a local seniors’ home near the harbour
which meant downtown and back was a long
trek indeed and yet she was doing it all the
time.
To make the proverbial long story short, I
managed to arrange to talk to her and learn her
story. Her name is Bennie Clifford and before
she moved to Kingsville, she was told that she
would never walk again.
Probably not for the first time she proved the
predictions wrong, for she was determined to
walk at her daughter’s wedding. She did!
At 89 she has been using the walker for 10
years and, given good weather, is out with it
for a much as five hours. (Wow!!!) She is
certainly an inspiration for others and she may
be surprised to learn that she is really good
company.
The first name that comes to my mind is
Stephen Hawking, the English scientist who is
totally crippled but is generally considered to
be the most profound thinker currently alive in
the world. Star Trek fans may remember that
he appeared on one segment in the company of
Einstein and Newton (only he was there in
person) as three of the greatest thinkers ever to
live.
One thing you notice about both Bennie and
Stephen; they don’t let their infirmities get in
Very soon each one of us will be only a few
digits away from anyone else in the world.
Undeniably beneficial if you happen to be
stranded in a broken down car at midnight; or
lying in a ravine by a remote hiking trail with
a sprained ankle and a snowstorm coming on.
Handy to be able to whip out your cell phone
and punch in the number of CAA or Search
and Rescue.
Sociologist Bernard Beck is gung ho. He
says soon “anyone will be able to find you ...
you cannot hide because the cell phone goes
with you, and if you leave it behind, you will
be blamed for not taking it with you.”
Oh, swell. Cell phone guilt. Just what I
needed - a new neurosis.
Call me Kermit the Hermit, but the prospect
of being on call to the rest of the planet 24
hours a day is not one that fills my heart with
joy.
Sometimes - a lot of times, actually -1 don’t
want to be found.
Right now, excuses are easy. I just say I
haven’t gotten around to buying a cell phone
yet.
Or if I had one, I’d say the batteries were low
or “I must have been out of range”. But if
technology keeps expanding in quantum gulps
as it has for the past decade, the units will soon
be as cheap, reliable and ubiquitous as Timex
their way.
Then there is Beethoven and Faure, both of
whom did not let a little thing like deafness
stop them. They went on composing
unforgettable music after they could no longer
hear a note.
Some readers may remember the story of
Beethoven who had to be turned around after
completing the conducting of his famous 9th
Symphony so he could see the stormy applause
of the audience.
Then there is the more recent achieveipent
of an American, Lance Armstrong, who this
year won the prestigious bicycle race, the Tour
de France. In 1996 Armstrong was diagnosed
with brain cancer, normally considered
Letters
Letters to the editor are a forum for public
opinion and comment. The views expressed do
not necessarily reflect those of this
publication.
THE EDITOR,
I am writing to you in response to the
numerous written and telephone inquiries that
have been made with my offices concerning
the recently announced RCMP crackdown on
illegal satellite television systems. Given the
expressed interest within Huron-Bruce, I felt
that it would be appropriate for me to clarify
this matter publicly.
As reported in the media, the RCMP
publicly announced their intentions to begin a
campaign against individuals and businesses
that have opted to make use of illegal satellite
systems. This would include businesses that
sell the aforementioned product to consumers
and individuals who possess the contraband
systems and/or programming.
It should be stressed that Canadians who
wristwatches.
And now, a confession. Before I embrace
those new lies, let me lay an old one to rest.
I am not a virgin. I owned a cell phone once.
About 10 years ago, when the phones they
are now giving away were retailing for about
400 bucks a pop. Mea culpa. I succumbed.
Bought my cell phone. Carried ‘my unit’ with
me everywhere I went.
For about a week. Then one day as I was
driving home from work I decided to call
home - just because I could.
“Hi, hon,” I burbled, juggling the cell phone
and steering around a lumbering semi, “Just
called to let you know I’m on my way home.”
“Oh really,” said the voice in my cell phone,
dryly. “You mean ... just like last night?
Seems that back home, the dog had just
thrown up on the carpet, a pot of broccoli was
boiling over on the stove and there was a
squad of Jehovah’s Witnesses at the front door.
A phone call confirming the obvious was
something my Helpmate Through Life’s Trials
really didn’t need.
Back during World War II, the Brits had an
energy-saving campaign that featured the
slogan “Is this call really necessary?”
That’s what this world needs - not newer
cell phones.
Older slogans.
terminal, but he made up his mind that it was
not going to stop him. He refused an operation
but took the traditional chemo and radiation
therapy and then trained diligently to be ready
for the race.
His ultimate victory must have been one of
the most widely applauded of all sporting
events in any year.
The spirit of overcoming adversity is alive
and well, not only in Kingsville but throughout
the world. Bennie is in good company!
Incidentally she did not think that she should
be called ‘old.’ That, she maintained, should be
reserved for people who had hit the 100 mark.
I am truly relieved to hear that! It means that
I have a long way to go before anybody dare
currently have a legal satellite system
operating in their homes do not need to be
concerned with this issue. Legal systems are
not the intended target of the said RCMP and
Government of Canada campaign.
Consequently, any individual who
participates in activities such as, receiving
programming in Canada while being billed at
a U.S. address and/or purchasing
programming at a discount from an
unauthorized third party, may be in violation
of Canadian law and, as such, could be
subjected to RCMP action.
The reason for the above is simple: a
flourishing underground trade hurts the
legitimate market. The RCMP is moving to
ensure that this does not occur.
If you, or your readers, would like more
specific information on anything contained
herein, I would encourage you to contact my
office. I trust that the above will be of interest.
Sincerely,
Paul Steckle, Huron-Bruce MP.
THE CITIZEN, WEDNESDAY, OCTOBER 27,1999. PAGE 5.
The
Short
of it
By Bonnie Gropp
No more apology
I haven’t always been a homebody. My, my,
in my day, I was quite a gal about town.
As a child, life was outdoors. When I wasn’t
at school I was playing with friends. As a
teenager, I hung out downtown or went
cruising. Typically, a party was not to be
missed and getting caught home on a Saturday
night would have been a sure sign that life was
over.
That mind-set stayed for almost two
decades, then something very strange
occurred — I finally grew up.
Actually, one might say I got my priorities
in order, but for whatever reason, I found a
haven in my home. It became the place where
most of my good times were had, where. I
consistently found company I enjoyed, where
I felt most in control.
Yet, amazingly, I have been compelled in
the decade since this re-awakening to
apologize, to defend, to explain, my yen for
home many times, to others and myself.
This past weekend a long-awaited girl party
was planned with my sister and our cousins.
Close through childhood, we have since been
alternately drawn together and apart by life’s
changing chemistry. Coupled, uncoupled,
with children, without children, pets, no pets,
we move in a circle at different speeds, hitting
potholes, accelerating and decelerating
sometimes in sync, more times not.
Irregardless, at some point the desire to be
together, to recognize the importance of our
history and our enjoyment of each other was
strong enough to bring us to one place,
simultaneously.
Hence this reunion. My sister in Barrie
hosted this first of hopefully many annual get-
togethers. We ate, we drank. We remembered
and shared jokes, only funny to us of course,
because of who we are. There was seriousness
when looking at deeply personal issues and
problems. There was silliness, capped by
yours truly donning an ear-lugged cap in a
department store and performing, if I may say
rather well, an impromptu scene from Fargo.
Perfectly sober I hasten to add.
Yet, ironically, despite the pleasant
company and surroundings, I frequently
caught myself yearning for, if not home, then
at least a representative. Had I been
accompanied by husband, child, even pooch, I
knew I would have felt less disconnected. A
mild, though nagging sensation prevailed that
were I to look down at myself I would
discover a portion of me missing.
At first, I was disturbed. It’s not normal
behaviour I chided myself.
Then slowly, that perception began to alter.
What’s wrong with wanting to be home? Why
should I question my sanity because the
people I most want to be with are my husband
and kids? Some may say I’ve gotten old. I’d
say I’ve gotten wise.
For many years, life to me was a
kaleidoscopic pattern of family, friends and
socializing, changing with a tum of the hand
what dominated, what mixed or altered.
Certainly, we need our moments separate
from our responsibilities. I enjoy them. 1 look
forward to them.
But, that I prefer home and family is who I
am. Why I thought that was worthy of apology
I don’t know.