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HomeMy WebLinkAboutThe Citizen, 2000-08-30, Page 5THE CITIZEN, WEDNESDAY, AUGUST 30, 2000. PAGE 5. Other Views Where there s a will, there's a way Made out your will yet? Didn’t think so - me neither. Still, it’s something to think about. You want to make sure you’ve done all the paperwork and looked after your family, your friends, your favourite charities and institutions. And ... oh yes ... your enemies. They don’t call it LAST will and testament for nothing. The piece of paper you leave behind is your very last chance to kick sand in the face of those who have plagued and perplexed you in this life. You and I are, of course, above such petty vengeance. But others have taken full advantage of the chance to taste the sweet sorbet of revenge from beyond the grave. Such as? Well, such as Herman Oberweiss, a Texas farmer who passed away in 1934. But not before he informed his executors exactly how he wanted his estate to be disposed of: “I don’t want my brother Oscar to get a god damn thing I got” wrote Herman, “I want it that Hilda my sister she gets the north sixty akers ... I bet she don’t get that loafer husband of hers to brake 20 akers before next planting...” Beyond the grave retribution goes back farther than the dirty 30s. Away back in the 17th century, Phillip, the fifth Earl of Pembroke, wittingly and searingly took care of a couple of would-be inheritors: “I give nothing to my Lord Saye, and I do make him this legacy willingly, knowing that he will faithfully distribute it In support of a national service I may be out of step with the times but I will go on record anyway of being in favour of some form of national service for 18 year olds. Before you or your offspring get all hot and bothered about such a revolutionary thought, let me say that 1 do not mean military service although that should be an option. Rather national service could be a selection of tasks which last no more than one year and which consist of some service to society as a whole, preferably in a province other than the one in which the person lives. Why do I believe so strongly in such a program? Simply because I am of the conviction that there is too much emphasis placed on all the rights and privileges that accrue to the individual and precious little is said or done about any responsibilities which the same individual has to the nation. Yet these responsibilities are extremely valuable if the state is to provide the highest benefit to all concerned. In some countries such as Germany and Switzerland compulsory military service is still the norm. I recall our teachers in St. Gallen having to take time out from classes to go off to do their duty and one time, when I stopped in to see the president of my alma mater, the University of St. Gallen, I was told that he was off the whole week for military service. He was in his 50s at the time which tells you a bit about how serious such a duty is taken in that country. I did military service in the air force and I must state that it was one of the best things that could have happened to me in my younger years. I realize how lacking I really was in self­ discipline. 1 discovered, too, how to keep my room neat ALL the time and to look just as neat ALL the time. I had responsibilities which had to be fulfilled. There was no time to goof off while we were on duty and I often used to wonder what I would have been like if 1 had not done Arthur Black unto the poor.” ”1 give to the Lieutenant-General Cromwell one of my words ... which he must want, seeing that he hath never kept any of his own.” A century later, another Englishman by the name of Edward Wortley Montagu insured in his will that the British stiff upper lip maintained its keenly honed edge: “To Sir Robert Walpole I leave my political opinions, never doubting he can well turn them into cash, who has always found such an excellent market in which to change his own.” “My cast-off habit of swearing oaths I give to Sir Leopold D., in consideration that no oaths have ever been able to bind him yet.” Some last-will-and-testamenters don’t reserve their pot shots for individuals, they go for entire classes. Or even genders. Such as Mister T.M. Zink, a full-time crank and world­ class misogynist lawyer in Iowa, who, on his deathbed in 1934, left an endowment to fund the “Zink Womanless Library”. Zink stipulated that each entrance would be flagged with a NO WOMEN ALLOWED sign, and that “no books, works of art or decora­ tions by women” would be permitted Raymond Canon The International Scene such service. Ail that and flying too! But one of the services that I admire the most is the Peace Corps in the United States. The name may be familiar to some readers, It is dedicated to doing good deeds in other countries which are in need of all sorts of help in a number of fields, such as health, social work, construction and the like. Unknown to many people, there, is also a Domestic Peace Corps which does more or less the same thing at home. I became aware of these latter activities a few months ago when a young American teacher, whom I had met in the Czech Republic, wrote to tell me that she was helping unprivileged children in the San Diego area and was then moving on to do the same thing in Hawaii. In both places she was being housed in surplus military installations. This is not to suggest that such activities are absent in Canada. Our church has sent young people down to the Caribbean on a number of occasions to help in construction projects and this year one of our members is going off to Europe for three weeks on a similar activity. I often read of exchange programs whereby Canadian students are able to go to study in Final Thought Truth has no special time of its own. Its hour is now — always. Albert Schweitzer within the penmeter. Lest anyone misunderstand, Zink explained, “My intense hatred of women is not of recent origin or development nor based upon any persona] differences ... but is the result of my experiences with women, observations of them and study of all literatures and philosophical works.” Be that as it may, Mister Zink’s will was overturned. There is no Zink Womanless Library and Mister Zink is no doubt rotating in his grave. Wearing, I like to think, pink lace underwear and a black garter belt. Canadians, too have indulged in Revenge from Beyond The Grave. Witness the last will and testament of one William Dunlop, resident of southern Ontario back in the mid-19th century: “I leave my silver tankard to the eldest son of Old John, as the representative of the family. I would have left it to Old John himself, but he would melt it down and make temperance medals and that would be a sacrilege....” “I leave Parson Chavasse the snuff box I got from the Sarnia Militia, as a small token of gratitude for the service he has done my family in taking a sister that no man of taste would have taken.” I don't know a whole lot about William Dunlop, aside from his last will and testament, but based on that, I think I’d have been glad to stand him to a Kokanee lager to fill that silver tankard. another country for a period of time and other countries send their students here. I applaud such activities; it is amazing how educational and maturing it can be for the persons concerned. All learning is not confined to the study of textbooks. I should be honest and say that there is a Canadian activity called Katimavik but so little is known about it that it might just as well be a state secret. It is for young people 17-21 and is funded by the Ministry of Canadian Heritage. You can look it up on the internet. I can only wonder how often it has been promoted in schools. I can assure you that all these activities will look great on your resume when you go looking for a job. Letter Continued from page 4 emergencies (St. John Ambulance). These two cases may not have been life threatening but what if they were? Should someone die before something is done? We think not! Can something be done? We think so! Our feeling is that emergency phone numbers should be posted at strategic locations (beer garden and ball diamonds). Also basic first aid equipment should be made readily available. Everyone hopes that nothing disastrous happens at these events, but sometimes it does. Shouldn’t we be prepared( which we’re not) to deal with these situations? We believe so! This letter is not intended to point fingers at anyone or to cause hard feelings. Just a deep hea't-felt concern that something needs to be done to reduce the risk to players, family and fnen Js. Yours truly, MemL *rs of The Blyth Misfits Co-Ed Slow Pitch Team Bonnie and Roger Riley. Bonnie Gropp The short of it I’m a survivor, too! I did my very best to not watch. Unfortunately, my eldest son hadn't missed a minute. So, when he came for a visit the other day, in order to keep his company for a little longer, I promised to view the final episode of Survivor. Now for those of you who have spent the past several months in the Australian outback, (where by the way the next round is to be) Survivor is a game show in which the contestants this time were placed on a deserted island for 39 days. They then voted each other off until only one remained. The survivor received $1 million. I had tuned in once before primarily to see what all the hype was about and quite frankly found it a bit overrated. Nonetheless, I couldn't go anywhere without hearing people discussing what was happening so catching up for the last show wasn't a problem. The winner was an arrogant (his opponents’ word, not mine) corporate counselor, whom it would seem, to hear them speak later, few of the other castaways liked. Yet, he managed to keep from receiving too many votes each time thus staying alive. He claims that he won the game through strategy, methodical planning and forethought. And few could argue that this is indeed the key to survival. Sitting listening to him I realized that I had used much the same technique in what I am compelled to refer to as my survival earlier that day. Oh, I didn't need to eat rats or bugs, walk on hot coals, or bathe in mud to keep the sun and bugs off, which the castaways at various times found necessary for their survival. But, at the risk of sounding melodramatic I did take on a rather daunting exercise — driving the 401 in Toronto during morning rush. It was orientation day for my college-bound daughter last Wednesday, and it fell on my shoulders to deliver her. Now, I am io strange to driving; this iob and having r.iisec4 four children has requned plenty of it. However, the majority has been on the gloriously open highways of mid-western Ontario, where I can essentially point my car in the right direction and fire away. Thus knowing that traffic would be terrific as we needed to be at our destination by no later than 10 a.m.. I began to plan my strategy for surviving the mayhem of the 401. It was simple really — go with the flow, stay to the right and don't get caught up in the aggression or lose my patience. I need not have worried. The majority of that particular leg of our journey was spent travelling at never more than 70 kms an hour, usually considerably less. There was no question of lane changes because there was no progress being made in any of them. Nor was there space for the Mario Andretti-wannabes who zoom in and around, tail-gating, cutting others off, never using a signal. My daughter and I joked about what comd possibly cause such a lengthy slowdown. After all someone has to be in the lead and they certainly aren’t going this pace. Which then got us joking about who was actually in front and how do you get there. Or at the end for that matter. I've only ever been in the middle of a mess like that Of course, the return trip was a faster pace, thus providing me with the opportunity to put my plan into action. Anyway, when all was said and done, I had survived. I didn't come out of the experience a million bucks richer, but I’m thrilled to know that at least it’s not something 1 have to do every day.