HomeMy WebLinkAboutThe Citizen, 2002-01-30, Page 5THE CITIZEN, WEDNESDAY, JANUARY 30, 2002. PAGE 5.
Other Views
or my Sammy Three caws
This is a message for Johnny Stutt. I don't
know where he is or even IF he still is,
- but if you happen to run into him,
please let him know that I stilrremember what
he did to Sammy.
Truth is, I haven't laid eyes on Johnny Stutt
for close to half a century, back when we
were both apple-cheeked, tow-headed grade
schoolers walking back and forth to Humber
Heights Public School.
Johnny and I both lived on Braecrest Avenue.
Sammy? He lived at my place and I could
almost always count on Sammy to be waiting
at the corner of my driveway to caw
me a 'welcome home' at the end of the school
day.
My dad had erected a signpost at the end of
the driveway with our name and street number
on it. Sammy liked to perch right on the top of
the post, about ten feet off the ground.
Which isn't so weird when you consider
Sammy was a member of the Corvus Corvidae
family - which is to say, a common crow.
Well...not that common. No crows are.
The term 'birdbrain' does not apply to these
rascally critters. Biologists have verified that
crows can count accurately up to four and that
they have a 'language' of at feast 24 different
calls. Those calls include specific caw
sequences that translate as "Come here",
"Come back", "Feeding time", "Man with a
gun", and "Let's get ready to rumble!"
What's more, crows mate for life and dote
almost neurotically on their offspring, which
often hang around the nest for as long as five
years, helping to raise and look after
Have you ever had a long-time friend
with whom you suddenly found
yourself on the outs and to whom you
were no longer speaking? Or conversely, a
person who has been unfriendly to you but
with whom you suddenly you find yourself on
speaking terms?
If so, you will be interested to know that
nations are frequently no different than you.
This occurred to me recently when I was
watching U.S. President George Bush and
Russian President Vladimir Putin put on a
show of friendship that left everybody shaking
their heads. Not too long ago you may
remember that the Americans and the Russians
were at each other's throat, and had enough
atomic missiles ready to launch that would kill
most of the population of the two countries 10
times over.
I am old enough to recall the time when the
Germans and the Japanese were our worst
enemies. People from those nations were those
you found when you lifted up a rock.
Yet by the time I grew up and went to study
in Germany for a year, the same Germans were
considered as a potential member of NATO.
Nor were the Japanese far behind in their
efforts to become friendly with their former
enemy.
Guess what! The same Russians who had
been our allies in World War II were now our
potential enemies as were the Chinese, the
same Chinese who, as our allies, had fought so
bravely against the Japanese, our former
enemy but now our friend.
It gets a bit confusing at times, doesn't it.
But even during the cold war_ it was hard to
act as if the alleged enemies were so bad after
all. I recall vividly, during my days at the
Department of External Affairs, of helping to
escort a group of Russian farmers around our
country so that they could study our farming
methods.
Sure, we were verbally attacked on a number
of occasions by Ukranian picketers who didn't
Arthur
Black
subsequent broods.
Sammy didn't have those early life options.
He was found at the bottom of an sugar maple,
alone, wet and hungry with no adults in sight.
The kids who found him sold him to my Dad
who brought him home in a cardboard box.
Sammy soon proved to be an uncommon
common crow. He learned to speak a few
words and, if you whistled for him, to come
swooping in like a Harrier jet, landing on your
shoulder with a delicacy that seemed at odds
with his bulk.
He also learned to retrieve nickels and dimes
thrown in the long grass - and to exchange
them for a piece of fruit.
He must have imprinted strongly with his
two-legged flightless adopters because he grew
to love people. Loved to watch them; loved to
try and bum treats off them.
People didn't always return the friendship.
Generally speaking, mankind seems to have an
uneasy, mistrustful attitude towards the birds,
and it shows in the language we use to describe
them.
Correct name for a group of crows? A
`murder'. Name for a crow fledgling? A
`simp'.
like Russians being treated in a friendly
fashion in Canada under any conditions.
However, our relations with the delegates
themselves were excellent even though
one of my jobs was to finger the KGB agent in
the group and report his identity back to
Ottawa.
A few years later when I was travelling in the
Soviet Union and had a KGB agent with
us masquerading as a guide, I had any
number of pleasant conversations with Russian
citizens who treated us as anything but an
enemy.
When I was in Leningrad (now St.
Petersburg), I went to a Protestant church one
Sunday and received an extremely warm
welcome by the congregation, to the point of
being invited to a wedding which was being
held right after the morning service. Not bad
for a so-called enemy!
To try to explain the situation, I created a
new word. "They were," I said, "my
frenemies."
No more is this word more apt than in the
Balkans. If you look at the history of that area,
you will find that every country there has
fought everybody else at least once and, by the
same token, has been the ally of everybody else
at least once.
Needless to say they have done a lot of
fighting and you can't blame the residents for
asking who is their current enemy and who
their friend. It is all something like a political
version of the old sport's saying: "You can't
tell the players without a program."
If Sammy was aware that he was not
universally adored by humans, he never let on.
He continued to 'people watch' at every
opportunity.
He was sitting atop his post watching the
kids come home from school one day when
Johnny Stutt came by, and, for reasons
unknown, chucked a rock at Sammy.
It hit him square in the chest. Sammy felt to
the ground, thrashed himself upright and flew
wobbly off. We never saw him again.
Anyone who's lost a pet knows what a void
they leave when they go. It was even worse
with Sammy.
There's something about being the only kid
on the block (in the city, maybe), to have a
personal friend who will sit on your shoulder,
ride on your bike, go indoors and romp on the
furniture, go outdoors and perform impromptu
solo air shows over your head - there's
something about that, — once gone — is
irreplaceable.
I don't suppose I still carry a grudge for
Johnny Stutt. Lord knows I made my share of
stupid and cruel mistakes when I was a kid -
still do, unfortunately. But there are those
occasions when you wish you could rewind the
Master Videotape of Life and edit out the rough
spots.
Suppose I'd talked Johnny Stutt into playing
catch that afternoon?
Suppose I'd come home early and taken
Sammy into the house, or off in the fields?
I think that way about Sammy from time to
time.
I like to think Johnny Stutt does too.
To be honest the operative word in the last
sentence is "political." Left to themselves,
people do not suddenly decide that citizens of
another country have become bad and
therefore enemies while others have become
good and thus friendly. These likes and dislikes
are created politically. -
I have only to think back to World War I,
which has to be one of the most senseless wars
of all time. Our "enemies" were not inherently
bad, worse by far than any nation on our side.
Every nation was caught up in political
maneuvering that got out of control.
Sadly millions of people had to die because
of it.
Letter
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,
Are you tired of looking at that pile of
snow in the driveway or should I say the
old car underneath it all, not realizing it
could be of great help for some child in need.
We here at the Kidney Foundation have a
solution.
It is that time of year when the tax man needs
his money. We can help by giving you a tax
receipt of $60.
As my grandmother would say, every little
bit helps and you would be helping save a life.
Donations are to be used for patient services,
public education and research. We need help
from you!
We provide a free tow, tax receipt for a
minimum of $60. To donate your clunker or
junker, all you need is to call 1-800-565-5511.
Our patients thank you for your continued
support!
Lori Scott.
A good new project
Like most kids, I spent a lot of time in the
arena as a youngster. Skating was a big
part of being young, and up until senior
public school, besides Friday might at the
movies, the rink was the coolest place to be.
Hand in hand with a new infatuation or sitting
in the stands watching hockey, my friends and I
wiled away many hours in what would
otherwise have been in interminable weekend.
By the time I was in my second year of high
.school, the focus had changed from the main
floor to the auditorium where regular Saturday
night dances attracted adolescents from town
and surrounding area. Certain bands became
big attractions and attendance at their
performance was a must for those who liked to
be where the fun was.
It was not only a great place to socialize with
old friends, but provided an opportunity to meet
new ones.
In the years following, there was a time for
awhile when the arena became less crucial to
me. Bin as a young mother, I found myself once
again, making.at least weekly trips for skating
and hockey. Also, there were social times again,
dances and events attended with friends, visits
to the fall fair.
Today, with my family now grown, things
have changed yet again and my presence is no
longer required for purposes of youth activity.
A homebody, I seldom venture forth for well-
attended gatherings, preferring instead quiet
evenings spent at home with a few friends.
That notwithstanding, history has made it
eminently clear to me how important the local
arena is to a community's vitality. It is, as a
group of astute Blyth people have noted, the
"heart and soul" of our villages.
: The reference has been used in a campaign to
raise funds for the revitalization of the Blyth
Community Centre. In a day when the viability
of such facilities can be in question, ti eir
project is not just-commendable but necessary.
In order for any small town arena to stay
competitive it must be able to offer, at least most
of what neighbouring arenas can.
The project in this case began with the need
for a new ice pad in the actual arena. To bring it
up-to-date, the surface would have to be
expanded, however, thus resulting in alterations
to the existing structure.
While this was being considered, it also
became apparent that the arena is not just about
sports. Throughout the year, the facility serves
as a centre for a number of large events,
including an annual dog show and the Thresher
Reunion, which attracts some 13,000 each year.
As well, the auditorium is used regularly for
banquets, meetings and dances.
The cost for an overall upgrade of the centre,
is $2.5 million. It is hoped that it can be
completed in time for Blyth's 125th
Homecoming celebration set for this August.
The committee's hard work and the
generosity of local service clubs and
organizations have, in addition to federal and
provincial grant funding in the amount of $1.4
million put them well on the way. However,
there is still much to be raised and they are soon
to be looking to the community for support..
In a few weeks an information package will
be coming to Blyth and area residents. I have
had a peek and would have to say the project is
exciting. Too often these days our communities
seem to struggle to stay vital. This is a good
news project of which Blyth can and should be
proud.
Changing sides in a hurry