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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.