HomeMy WebLinkAboutThe Citizen, 2000-12-13, Page 5THE CITIZEN, WEDNESDAY, DECEMBER 13, 2000. PAGE 5.
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This year I’m giving presents of mind
I can see that winking red light at the end of
the tunnel and I know only too well what it
is. It is the juggernaut of Christmas bearing
down on me like the Via Transcontinental.
And naturally, I haven’t .even started my
Christmas shopping.
This is not a new event, it’s just my personal
universe unraveling as it usually at does this
stage of the season.
I have my own Yuletide tradition, which
I observe without fail in the waning hours
of Dec. 24 each year. It’s a wild-eyed
kamikaze blitzkrieg assault on the local
shopping mall. I descend like a berserker, my
razor-sharp Visa card slashing right and left as
bags, parcels and bundles of boodle pile up in
my shopping cart.
Last minute shopping. Nobody does it better.
Well...nobody does it faster.
That’s the way it usually works, but not this’
year. This year I am serene and composed. I
am, for once, sitting in the Christmas catbird
seat.
This year I’m shopping from the catalogue. I
have it right here. The Nieman Marcus
Christmas Book. It fulfills all my gift-giving
needs.
You know the Nieman Marcus people? The
Christmas at the Millennium
When I was quite young I made a
Christmas wish that I would live
long enough to reach the year 2000.
It seemed so far away that I thought it would
take a miracle to accomplish that and, since the
word miracle had just been explained to me, I
thought it might be nice to pray for something
like that.
Well, the miracle has happened; I reached
the new millennium.
To be honest, there was really only one time
when I seriously wondered if I would make it.
I was cutting through a building in St. Gallen,
Switzerland, on my way to play hockey in
Zurich when the building chose that moment to
collapse with me in it. I watched the roof start
to fall in and my first thought was that I was
too young to die (I was 21).
Two hours later I came to in the cantonal
hospital and discovered for the first time in my
life what a miracle really was. I had a
concussion, two partly crushed vertebrae and
assorted bumps and cuts. But I was alive and,
as they say in today’s jargon, my injuries were
non-life-threatening. The doctors told me it
was nothing less than a miracle.
But I spent that Christmas in a plaster cast
from just under my armpits ail the way down to
my waist. This cast was used to keep my back
straight while the vertebrae healed. It certainly
did its job!
Just being alive that Christmas was a
wonderful feeling.
Two years later I was coming home to St.
Gallen for Christmas. At the time I was
studying at a university in Mainz, Germany
and, in the month leading up to the holiday,
anything that could have gone wrong, did.
(Murphy’s Law?) Just when I thought I was not
going to make it, another miracle happened
and I found myself on one of the last trains to
run on that Dec. 24 from Kreuzlingen, on the
Swiss-German border, to St. Gallen.
I arrived home just in time for the traditional
Christmas Eve dinner. Just being there was an
equally wonderful feeling.
How many of us remember our first
Christmas? I can certainly remember mine, if
only for the present I got. You will note that I
used the word “present” in the singular since
this was during the great depression of the
1930s and money in our family was in short
supply. My present was an airplane; I was
thrilled by it and soon had several runways
marked out on which I could land and take off.
My great ambition, from then on, was to
Arthur
Black
store is based in Dallas, Texas and they’ve been
putting out a catalogue since 1959.
Each year, in addition to hundreds of
reasonably normal gift suggestions they
feature one humongous ‘fantasy’ gift. In 1959,
the fantasy gift you could order from the
catalogue direct to your Christmas stocking
was a Black Angus steer.
Nieman Marcus would deliver it to you on
the hoof or in steak form for a mere $2,000
U.S.
In the 1960 catalogue, Nieman Marcus
offered His n’Her Airplanes. For a trifling
$176,000 U.S., loving couples could find
matching Beechcraft aircraft under the tree
Christmas morning.
Over the years the catalogue has
recommended matching Chinese junks
($11,500) and matching ermine bathrobes
($6,975).
Raymond
Canon
The
International
Scene
learn to fly. This actually came about and in
due course I owned my own airplane. When
flying over some of the places that now take
my column, I often used to think of my first
little toy airplane and how it had conditioned
my life.
How many readers have had the same
experience of receiving something for
Christmas early in their life and having it play
an important role later on?
As an economist I often find it very easy to
think of Christmas as an important stimulus to
the economy and many businesses do depend
on this time of year to move from a loss to a
profit situation. This leads to the oft repeated
Letters to the Editor
THE EDITOR,
As the Fire Chief for this municipality, I
would like to bring to your attention the
potential dangers that lurk inside your home
this December. The holiday season is full of
traditions, including a higher than usual
number of fire deaths. Believe me, there is
nothing more upsetting to firefighters than
being called to battle a tragic fire that could so
easily have been prevented.
In December 1999, 18 people died in fires in
Ontario, including eight children. This is
almost twice the monthly average. These
unacceptable statistics demonstrate an urgent
need for people to take responsibility this
holiday season to protect themselves and their
families from fire.
You may be surprised to know that the big
culprits are not Christmas trees or faulty
wiring. In fact, the majority of fire deaths that
occur this time of year are caused by careless
smoking or cooking. Alcohol is often a
contributing factor.
You can keep your family safe by following
some simple fire safety rules. First, make sure
you have a smoke alarm on every level of your
home and outside all sleeping aieas. You
should test your alarms regularly and change
This is definitely high-end shopping and it
still manages to be annoying.
Gift-giving - it’s a headache even for the
rich. Back during the Roaring 20s, John D.
Rockefeller Senior was one of the richest
men in the world. When he heard that
his family had ordered an electric car for
his Christmas present, he muttered, “If it’s
all the same to you, I’d rather have the
money.”
That’s fine for John D. but it doesn’t solve
my Christmas gift dilemma.
For that I have to go back to this year’s
Nieman Marcus catalogue.
Thing is, I’m tom between the family of life
size, full-service robots (including Barko, the
robot dog which barks and wags his tail) and
the catalogues piece de resistance - this year’s
fantasy gift: a 188-foot custom-crafted
submarine that sleeps 11 and can remain
submerged for 40 days.
Mind you, it’s a bit pricey - Twenty million
dollars U.S.
But what the heck. Christmas is for giving,
right? I think I’ll give subs to all my friends
for Christmas this year.
Subscriptions to the Nieman Marcus
catalogue that is. I think I can afford that.
complaint that it is far too commercialized and
that we should get back to basics. However,
even while acknowledging this unfortunate
trend, I have always maintained something that
perhaps gets overlooked in the economic hustle
and bustle. It is simply that Christmas is like
any other religious holiday; it is what you
make of it.
The two stories that I related at the beginning
of the article reflect my thinking, namely that
you cannot take for granted a holiday filled
with all sorts of presents and no problems.
After all these years and in spite of all the
outside influences, Christmas is still a religious
event in my life.
When I sit down with my family, I give
thanks for these miracles. Included in these is
the fact that I did, after all;*remain healthy
enough to reach the new millennium, not to
mention that I can celebrate it with my family.
Incidentally, sitting on my desk is a small
model airplane to remind me of all that has
happened since that first Christmas with my
one present.
the batteries at least once a year.
Next, you need to develop a home escape
plan and practise it with your entire family. If
a fire does occur, everyone in your household
must know how to get out quickly and safely.
Finally, take extreme care to make sure all
cigarettes are completely extinguished,
especially if they are in the hands of people
consuming alcohol. A carelessly discarded
cigarette can smolder for hours before erupting
into flames.
Your fire department wants to make sure the
people of this community have a fire-safe
holiday - but we can’t do it without you. If we
all take extra care this festive season, we can
prevent a repeat of last year's devastating
losses
As of Jan. 1 the Brussels fire emergency
number, 887-6161 will be taken out of service
because of 9-1-1.
D. Murray McArter
Brussels Fire Chief.
Final Thought
First ponder, then dare.
- Attributed to Helmuth von Moltke
Bonnie
Gropp
The short of it
You know it’s bad
You know it’s bad when ... As winter
blew through our area for yet a second
time before the season has officially
even arrived, the folks of whitewashed Huron
knew it was intense.
I was, however surprised to hear my city
dwelling kids say the same about what
happened there.
Let me explain. When that first storm in
November surprised us there was no doubt that
even in the Snowbelt, people were ill-
prepared. Ail the plows weren’t ready for the
road. Drivers had not yet fine-tuned their
skills, so that many found themselves
travelling off-road, rather than on. But
typically, we hardy individuals took it in
stride, digging out, bundling up and even
staying in. It was after all, despite its rather
premature arrival, weather we have come to
expect. We know it well, we understand it and
we respect it.
But seldom do we exaggerate it.
Urbanites on the other hand, generally don’t
have a clue. As the first storm peaked I read
with interest accounts in the Kitchener paper.
One woman was shocked by what winter had
brought. After all, she said, she was from
Windsor and had never really seen snow like
this.
Likewise the Kitchener radio station
reported on the deteriorating conditions while
a London station told of how the storm was
leaving no area unscathed.
My, my, I thought. Maybe this was one of
those rare ones when the heavens were not so
selective. Concern for my son who has a 20-
minute drive outside the city limits prompted a
phone call from me. When I got the answering
machine, I simply said that I hoped his trip
wasn’t too horrible and that I will assume no
news is good news
Then a call to my daughter and her response.
“There’s no snow,” this U ugh little huron
County native said. And a later conversation
with her brother confirmed it. “When I got
your message I didn’t know what you were
talking about. We’ve got nothing."
And thus, my initial belief reinforced that
city people really are a little spoiled, I
anticipated much the same response when I
phoned the kids following last week’s blow
up.
However, I was in for a surprise.
The first inkling I got that perhaps this time
Mother Nature wasn’t picking favourites was
when the eldest said the storm hit too early for
school to be cancelled, so he had to go to
work. By the time he was ready for home,
there was a winter wonderland to greet him.
Perfect if you’re not going anywhere perhaps,
but when you’re driving it definitely loses its
romantic appeal. The return tnp took him
almost twice the time.
His sister, too, had to admit that a whiteout
on a country road is, though intense, a little
less so than one experienced in the middle of
rush-hour traffic. Pulling up to a comer and
guessing whether something might be coming
really doesn’t carry the best odds for success.
“I’ve always made fun of the way they drive
here in the winter, but that was scary,” she said
of last week’s blow-up.
So this time, rather than being typically
amused to hear the non-Snowbelters go on and
on, I actually had to give credence to what was
being said. Because when the transplanted
complained I knew it was bad.