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HomeMy WebLinkAboutThe Citizen, 2005-06-02, Page 5THE CITIZEN, THURSDAY, JUNE 2, 2005. PAGE 5. Other Views Anyone for some finger food? Customer: Waiter! What’s this fly doing in my soup! Waiter: Hmmm. Looks like the backstroke, sir. AH corny joking aside, put yourself in Denny Lynch’s Hush Puppies. You’re a young management type living in San Jose. California and. by and large, your personal universe is unfolding as it should. You're happily married. Your car starts every time you turn the ignition key. The restaurant you operate - a Wendy’s outlet - is a popular one. You’re full up most nights with lots of enthusiastic regulars. More than a few of them even make a point of coming up to the cash register and telling you how much they liked their meals. Then comes the evening of March 22, 2005. A woman at table 13 is causing a ruckus. She is demanding to see the manager. Well, it happens. Sometimes a burger is underdone, or the coleslaw is missing. Occasionally the coffee is lukewarm instead of piping hot. But it’s different this time. The woman is white-faced and she is coughing and retching and pointing disgustedly towards her unfinished bowl of Wendy’s chili. More specifically she is pointing at a brownish, eraser-sized morsel sitting on the plate beside her chili bowl. It looks like it could be a chunk of meat or maybe a sprig of celery, except for one thing. It has a long, manicured fingernail attached to it. It’s a portion of a severed human finger. And the customer is claiming that she found Paying tribute to the greatest Speaking of turncoats — and many are after Belinda Stronach switched federal parties — Ontario legislators paid tribute recently to the most notorious of them all Stronach, who changed once, was a model of steadfastness and loyalty compared to J. Earl McEwen. McEwen, who has died at 94, owned a grocery store in Kingston Township and went into politics because the municipality would not salt the street in front of it. He had no grand passions for changing the world. He became reeve and riding president for the Progressive Conservatives, ran twice for them in federal elections in the 1960s and lost, and seemed a dyed-in-the-wool Tory. McEwen began straying when he failed to win the Tory nomination in Frontenac- Addington in the 1971 provincial election and ran as an independent, but lost. In the next provincial election in 1975, McEwen shifted to the Liberals and won. He said they had better policies. But he may have been drawn more by the Tories under premier William Davis having lost support, particularly because many felt they intervened too much. His timing was impeccable, because his former party lost seats and fell into minority government. But for someone ready to run for almost anyone to get elected, McEwen showed little enthusiasm for the legislature. He made no effort to get along with other Liberal MPPs and rarely attended caucus, which sometimes shapes policy, or spoke in the legislature. McEwen criticized the Tory government in his only remembered speech, calling it “an untrained fruit tree growing wildly in all directions.” But in 1984 he dropped his major bombshell of switching back to the Conservative fold. He claimed he was unhappy with Liberal policies and that leader David Peterson and iwo or three others “were running the whole it the hard way - by chomping into it. Oh, and she says one other thing, between her gasps for breath. She says she’s suing. And sue she does. Anna Ayala, aged 39, of Las Vegas, hires herself a lawyer and files a multi-million dollar claim against JEM Management Group, which owns the Wendy’s franchise where she...ate. Naturally, the story goes global. There’s something about tales of body parts in fast food that tickles the morbid funny bone of news reporters. Letterman and Leno crack wise about it. Anna Ayala’s story becomes the •‘kicker’ for newscasts all over the planet. And at Wendy’s, they’re in full damage control. They call in the cops, who grill every Wendy’s employee who possibly could have slipped the digit into the chow. They give the whole staff Voice Stress Analysis tests to discover if any of them are lying. They hire a fleet of private investigators to track down the person who used to be attached to the finger. They trace all their chili ingredients back to their suppliers to see if anybody along the way suffered a serious hand thing and the rest of us didn’t have any say.” McEwen was by no means the only MPP to feel a leader dominated a caucus, but others tried to get their views known by speaking, up, publicly if necessary. McEwen said he spent less time at the legislature “because there was no sense being there. You don’t accomplish anything. Out in the riding you get things done.” He said he “could not sit in Toronto guzzling booze, while telling the people back home how hard I’m working.” Other MPPs have recognized they have to balance their time. They need to be in their ridings to look after constituents’ problems, but the legislature is where larger concerns are raised and solutions debated. McEwen complained as a Liberal he lacked opportunities for advancement, but no government would have given a cabinet post to someone who contributed so little. He also said he had never really stopped being a Conservative, but his switch seemed to be motivated more by fears he could lose an election due in 1985. His winning margin had declined steadily, while the Conservatives had regained their majority and were high in polls, temporarily. Pinal Thought Don’t bother just to be better than your contemporaries or predecessors. Try to be better than yourself. - William Faulkner injury. Wendy’s also offers a $50,000 reward for information about the origin of the finger. Just hours later they double the award to $100,000. Meanwhile it's as if a stink bomb has gone off, not just in the outlet where Anna Ayala dined on that fateful March night, but at Wendy’s outlets all over California. Customers are staying away in droves. Wendy's starts reducing shifts and even laying off employees. But then some curious facts emerge. Investigators determine that the severed finger at the centre of the mystery was 'fresh', so to speak - not cooked. In other words, it didn't come with the chili. It was planted. And then the San Jose police discover that Ms Ayala is no stranger to lawsuits against large corporations. She had previously sued General Motors. Goodyear Tire and El Polio Loco, another restaurant chain. Anna Ayala is, in short, a fraud and a phony. Her lawsuit is kaput and instead of moving up to Park Place, she has gone Directly To Jail. The upshot of her little scam? Fast Food Chill. Wendy's restaurants in California shoulder losses in the millions of dollars and scores of Wendy’s employees are looking for work. Wendy’s customers are straggling back slowly, but nobody’s ordering chili. On the upside, Anna Ayala is sitting in a San Jose jail cell awaiting a date with a judge. Here’s hoping the judge gives her the finger. The Conservatives also planned to run an outstanding candidate against him, Sally Barnes, Davis’s articulate former press secretary and president of the Ontario Status of Women Council, who grew up in the area. But Davis welcomed McEwen back, hoping his return would be taken as a sign the Liberals were falling apart, so his press aide lost her big chance. Running as a Conservative McEwen lost anyway and the Liberals said the best thing they had going was his record of switching back and forth. McEwen claimed he looked after the riding so well he persuaded it to keep voting Liberal. In the legislature the three parties paid over- generous tributes, as they do to all former MPPs who die. Conservative house leader Bob Runciman pointed out that traditionally the party which was represented by the deceased MPP represented speaks first, “but in Earl’s case we would have to flip a coin.” No-one mentioned McEwen’s career epitomized one of most distasteful aspects of politicians defecting. Parties always welcome them with open arms no matter how self­ serving their motives. Letters The Citizen welcomes letters to the editor. Letters must be signed and should include a daytime telephone number for the purpose of verification only. Letters that are not signed will not be printed. Submissions may be edited for length, clarity and content, using fair comment as our guideline. The Citizen reserves the right to refuse any letter on the basis of unfair bias, prejudice or inaccurate information. As well, letters can only be printed as space allows. Please keep your letters brief and concise. Bonnie Gropp The short of it Tree huggers? Whether it’s autumn’s fire or the warmth of spring, there’s no question that Mother Nature's creativity paints a pretty picture from season to season. From the minimalist winter to the vivid colours and broad strokes of fall, we are blessed by a beautiful world. However, few could argue that spring and summer offer us the most diversity and pleasure. A blazing summer day full of the sounds and sights we’ve come to know is an eclectic mix of the natural and less natural. The patter of water sprinklers is light percussion in the still heavy air. Hammocks sway gently to the lullaby of buzzing bees and shrill cicadas. But if summer is about relaxation, spring is the season of birth and renewal. As we wake from the cold, all around us are signs of new life. Flowers begin their slow stretch from the earth. Birds bring their songs, and sing them often, to welcome the more pleasant temperatures. And the trees, as the days pass, move from bud to beautiful, offering shelter and shade to the birds above, the flowers and creatures below. It was the majestic maples that initially attracted my husband to our home. The quiet street was lush with sturdy old trees. “If these trees ever come down, we’re moving,” he once told me. The reality, unfortunately was that many of them did. Windstorms and age took their toll until nothing was left of four of them but stumps. Having grown accustomed to his home by now, hubby opted to replant rather than pull up stakes and went on a mission that has been nothing short of fanatical. I’ve teased him a bit about his tree loving; anytime one has to come down he is like a suitor reluctant to let go of a bad relationship. Yet in all honesty ... well, let’s just say I love what he’s done with the place. In his planting scheme he’s considered our yin and yang personalities: I have my places in the sun and he’s able to remain in the shade. And I tqo have become surprisingly attached to some. There is an oddity out my kitchen window, a ‘fiknarveled’ thing, as my mom would say, that no one has been able to name. But it was always easy to climb for my little ones and I never see it without seeing them. Then there is my favourite. Recently while enjoying an idle moment on my deck. I glanced at our impressive red maple and was struck with such a sense of nostalgia that I was overwhelmed. This tree has grown with us. As the life we have created, it has matured and been strengthened. When we bought our house, this tree was barely worth notice. Other than its dark leaves there was little to distinguish it. Standing somewhat away from the house in the backyard it stood about 12 feet high. Low branches also made this tree a perfect place for climbing and each of our children rose to the challenge at one time or another. Its presence was pretty much taken for granted, until one day we really looked at it and noticed its now imposing size, its rich, deep colour and profusion of foliage. Its sturdy branches could easily now bear the weight of a swing for our grandson; its density provides a cool cover for our pet. This natural beauty is the first thing to greet me outside my window at the start of each new day. I adore it. And if it ever has to come down, 1 think I’m -~ going to move.