HomeMy WebLinkAboutTimes-Advocate, 1982-06-02, Page 4•mooefl`go t.,=
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Times -Advocate, June 2, 1982
• Times Established 1873
Advocate Established 1881
Amalgamated 1924
y,r I.. 1,.
•
dvocate
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Ponder your responsibility
This year National Environment Week ends on
World Environment Day, marking the 10th anniver-
sary of the United Nations Conference on the Human
Environment in Stockholm, Sweden.
Since 1972, scientists have confirmed that the
earth's resources are seriously threatened by pollution,
overexploitation and mismanagement. That's our
earth and its future at stake - and it's up to all of us
to do something about it.
Whether you live in the city or the country, there's
nowhere to hide from environmental dangers. Water.
and air pollution, the loss of good farmland, forests,
fisheries, wildlife and other resources threaten jobs,
human health and living standards everywhere.
Look around you, starting at home. Are you recycl-
ing used paper, glass and other materials? Are you tak-
ing adequate care in disposing of unused paint, insec-
ticides and other wastes?
Then, if you drive, consider your driving habits and
the care you take of your car. Are they easy on fuel
consumption and exhaust emissions? Do you use
unleaded fuel and keep your car in top running order?
s
*CNA
Look around your neighbourhood, your workplace,
your city, town or other municipality. And don't forget
your summer cottage or other favorite vacation resort.
Are parks, beaches and water safe and clean? Is there
adequate waste -treatment, with effective control of air -
pollution ? Is wildlife habitat properly protected?
You can make your own environmental checklist
- and act upon it, too. Discuss your findings with your
neighbours, yourelectedirepresentatives and appointed
officials. Support political leaders, groups and
organizations who really care about the environment,
and press for action to protect it. .
Urge your service club, community group, union
or professional association to support this cause. Join
your local environmental group, or join with your
neighbours in getting one started. And enlist the help
of the schools in teaching your children to respect and
cherish their natural heritage.
National Environment Week is a time for all Cana-
dians to ponder their own responsibility - a time for
NEW initiatives and NEW dedication.
No laughing matter
Our members of parliament did themselves no
great service last Friday when they failed to suppress
giggles and laughter in the House of Commons. The
ill-timed amusement was triggered by an earnest plea
from a female member who was asking that serious
consideration be given to the plight of "battered
wives". Margaret Mitchell (NDP) stated that one wife
in every ten is physically abused by her husband and
that some sort of houses of refuge should be provided
for them.
Whether or not the widespread ' amusement
stemmed from genuine mirth or from nervous reacioh,
is of small concern. The bald fact is that the
predominantly male House was immediately brand-
ed as male -chauvinist and -callous. Adding insult to in-
jury, the expected apologies were refused.
Parliamentarians, it seems, are sorely in need of
some instruction in the values of social consciousness,
as well as in the merits of good public relations.
Wingham _Advance -Times
A Iittle culture can
After spending the winter in smelly
hockey dressing rooms with a bunch of
kids who think long johns should be stiff
enough to help settve as extra padding and
then battlingkilldeer and mud in,an at-
tempt to get in a garden, the writer decid-
ed to chuck it all aside last week and get
some culture into his life..
While that would suggest to some that
he was once again in the bald-headed row
at the strip show, that was just not the
case. Along with a bevy of young ladies,
many' in flowing gowns, I headed off to
Theatre London to watch the National
Ballet of Canada perform.
First impression was that there'd been
a terrible mistake and in fact I had once
again walked into that smelly dressing
room as a group of young men appeared
on stage wearing long -johns. However, in-
formed sources nearby indicated that
they were not merely in the midst of
dressing for the performance. That was
what male ballet dancers wear. Sure does
keep the overhead down!
The cultural experience was a little
Mow in warming up, to say the least. The
first portion of the performance featured
five dancers dressed in chicken attire.
Their strutting was good, but nothing
more spectacular than one can see when
any good-sized Leghorn rooster spots a
few nearby hens and starts to strut his
stuff. For 14 bucks a seat, the spectators
would have been better off visiting a near-
by chicken farm to see the real thing. Pro-
bably would have been as much action,
too, although it would probably have been
a little too much for all those budding
young ballerinas who were in attendance
in their flowing gowns.
ip • s •
There was some further doubt whether
this good of country boy was really going
to get much culture when a real live pony
came prancing onto the stage. He was ob-
viously of some noble breeding, but I
could have seen a couple of hundred
horses had I bypassed the theatre and
headed down to the Western Fair
raceway.
be dangerous
They didn't even have a bookie at the
theatre, although I was willing to get even
money that there'd be a mess to clean up
on stage before the pony got through his
act. When he departed without the ex-
pected mess, I realized it was not my
night for betting and it was a good thing
I was at the theatre and not the track.
BATT'N
AROUND
with the editor
That 14 bucks for the seat would have
been gone before they called the horses
to the post for,the third race.
There was little doubt that most of the
members of the National Ballet are city
dwellers. A whole horde of them appeared
on stage carrying sickles and they pro-
ceeded to pretend they were harvesting
some wheat. It was hard to sustain a
laugh at this point, as well as the urge to
stand up and let them know that down
here on the farm we don't use. sickles 'any
longer. But what the heck. How are you
going to explain the operation of a $100,000
coi'nbine to someone who has culture?
They even had some make -belief wheat
sheaves all done up fancy with a ribbon
like you see up at the Exeter fall fair. Sup-
pose one of those guys visited a fall fair
somewhere along the,line 'and saw some
of those fancy things and went away
believing that all the farmers walked
around in their fields tying red ribbons
around sheaves of wheat before they neat-
ly stacked them in the barn.
If the darn fool had taken a look around
the fields while he was driving to the fair
he would have realized that they don't do
things like that down here on the farm any
more. Like I say, we got these big com-
bines and if they weren't so busy with
their culture they'd see what goes on
around them.
The real shocking thing about, culture
is that they have trouble with their sexes.
I suspected that right away from the pro-
gram when I noticed that a Jacques Gor-
rissen was going to play the part of the
Widow Simone. •
They put a dress and a wig on him, and
while it may have fooled a lot of those peo-
ple who have more culture than the
writer, I wasn't about to. be taken in.
Should have told Jacques not to jump -so
high, because when his dress flew up and
showed his legs, it gave him right away.
They didn't make any mistakes though
with Lise, her daughter. They had
Veronica Tennant playing that part and
even up in the balcony I could tell she was
the right sex for the part.
Now there's a gal that should give up
the culture bit and get into athletics. She
can jump clear over at (east three of them
thar fancy sheaves of wheat stacked on
top of each other. She's as nimble as any
barn -yard cat working her way to a tasty
mouse and she's strong too. In fact most
of those cultured people have muscles.
They toss each other up in the air and
catch them as though they were light as
feathers.
Come to think of it, if we didn't have
combines, I'd be advising area farmers
to head to the ballet to get their hired
hands. Bet they'd do a good day's work
out stookin' wheat.
And just think of that low overhead.
Give them a pair of long -johns and they'll
run,• jump and dance 'til the cows come
home.
Be careful, though, and don't let any of
that culture wear off on you or you'll be
jumping out of your air-conditioned com-
bine cab to join them.
And if.you happen to get an impulse to
take one of them young things out behind
the barn... don't forget they don't always
appear to be what you may think.
If you're beginning to think culture can
be dangerous... well, the thought crossed
my mind too. But, maybe there was
something 1 was missing!
Using shot -gun style
This is the shot -gun col-
umn I promised last week,
and got so busy running
down my wife I didn't get
around to it.
Man does not live by
bread alone, as someone
once said, truly. A little
butter helps; and a little
jam makes it even more
palatable, though I've
seen the days when a
chunk of German brot,
evil -smelling, • sour -
tasting, hit my palate with
the force of a piece of
Black Forest Cake.
And man does not live
by banks alone, though I
know this is heresay and.
liable to have me in-
vestigated by the RCMP.
Hundreds of years ago,
man lived by bread alone,
a little hope and a lot of
faith. He built cathedrals,
reaching toward God
eagerly and artistically.
When the cathedral was
finished, after two or three
hundred years of loving
craftsmanship, it was a
place to worship:
physically, aesthetically
and spiritually: One could
almost reach up and touch
the face of God. And then
get about his business.
Today, our banks are
the cathedrals: vast
edifices of stone and steel
and concrete, The cost of
them is, proportionately,
the same as that of the
14th century.
But they are whacked
up in a couple of years,
and there's a lot of shoddy
workmanship, because
they are not expected to
last for a thousand years -
maybe 40.
When they are finished,
they are also a place to
worship. But one doesn't
light a candle. One hands
over a little book, or a
piece of paper, to, one of
the lower priests, who
hands back some green or
blue paper. One makes an
obeisance, and is reward-
ed with a hearty, "Have a
nice day."
wrow
Sugar
and Spice
Dispensed By Smiley
ing grouchy. One pro-
ceeds, by lurches and
ambles, to the lower
priest, and figuratively -
bows (though they are a
damn nice bunch of girl -
priests, in my opinion).
One is then referred to
If one is very rich, or
very poor, one is ushered
into the cell of one of the
higher priests: the loans
manager, or the General
Manager. In the first cell
one is told that one can
easily get more green
paper if one assigns one
grandmother, two legs
and an arm as security. -
In the cellof the high
priest, one is told that the
sky is the limit, that the
high priest is merely there
to smooth, or unctuate,
one into the realms of even
greater material wealth,
and that one is the salt of
the earth, to say the very
least.
Then one asks for the
Key to the Kingdom. It is
produced, with celerity,
and one is ushered into the
secret place, where one of
the lesser priests turns a
key, one takes one's
goodies, goes into a little
cubby-hole, and worships
Mammon, by counting
one's investments, all
pieces of paper.
Physical? One stands in
a line-up of sweaty
strangers, everyone look -
the next higher priest, who
is unctuous, smiling, and
as hard as nails if one
wants some mortgage
money, or some cash ,to
feed the hogs.
Or one goes to the High
Priest, who is genial,
jovial, and offers a return
on one's money which is
one-quarter per cent lower
than the cathedral down
the street, or across the
corner. (These cathedrals
tend to bunch up on cor-
ners.) But there s always
a catch, in the small print.
One leaves the
cathedral physically,
aesthetically, and
spiritually impoverished.
One is apt to head for the
liquor store.
Well, that's only item
one of my shot -gun col-
umn, though it grew to the
length of an Old Sharps
buffalo gun.
Here's another, from N.
A. Ronis, of Thunder Bay:
"Dear Mr. Smiley: Your
columns are always in-
teresting if sometimes a
trifle vulgar. They are
always forthright and sub-
jectively honest and I en-
joy reading them."
Thanks, N.A. ,
Item three. I have to
decide to live with my
four -times -broken nose, or
have a nose job. Saw the
nose man this week. He
said, "If you can live with
it, O.K. If you can't, I'll fix
it," and his eyes gleamed
sadistically. •I can't live
with it, and I'm scared of
the operation.
Item four. My wife
wants to "Have a talk."
That means she wants me
to give up all my bad
habits and not give up any
of hers. This usually ar-
rives at a stalemate. When
I get dinner, the kitchen
looks like an Irishman's
shanty, with everything
dirty and everything scan-
ty. When she does, it looks
like a hospital room -
anemic, asceptic, and as
though we hadn't eaten.
And I'm never sure we
have.
Item five. The Feds, in
their wisdom, have driven
the oil industry out of
Canada. Alsands has
become No -sands. In On-
tario, the government,
without• a by-your-leave,
bought into Suncor, and an
analysis hag showed that
they paid more than $300
million too much for it.
Who pays the piper?
Guess. The government
has no money: You and I
have a little. And the little
has become a littler. We'll
soon be at littlest. It's not
the proper comparisons
of a verb, but it works. It
should be: little, less,
least.)
Item six. My daughter is
broke, and my kid brother
is almost rich, and they're
too young to be married,
so what do I do.
When the collar gets tight
Seeing all the interest in
the newspapers recently
over the doctors of Ontario
going on a series of
rotating 'strikes' reminds
me of a couple of stories
about doctors.
In the first case, the pa-
tient said, "But doctor,
are you sure I'll pull
through? I've heard of
cases where the doctor
has made a wrong
diagnosis, and treated so-
meone for pneumonia who
has afterwards died of
typhoid fever."
"Nonsense," said the
angry doctor. "When I
treat a patient for
pneumonia, he dies of
pneumonia."
In another case, a physi-
cian had just finished
checking a patient who
was well past middle age.
"Well, old boy," he said
with a smile. "I can't find
A' man sought medical
aid because he had popped
eyes and a ringing in his
Perspectives
By Syd Fletcher
litre
a thing wrong with you,
but I do recommend that
you give up about half of
your love life."
After a long pause, the
patient replied, "Which
half should I give up, doc,
thinking about it or talking
about it?"
I'll leave you with this
one •
ears. A doctor looked him
over and suggested
removal of his tonsils. The
operation didn't help so
the patient consulted
another doctor who sug-
gested removal Of the
man's teeth. This didn't
help either. A third doctor
told him bluntly: "You've
got six months to live." In
that event the doomed
man decided to treat
himself right. He bought a
flashy car, hired a chauf-
feur, had the best tailor in
town make him ten suits,
and decided his shirts
should be made to order.
"Okay," said the shirt -
maker, "let's get your
measurements. Hmm, 34
sleeve 16 collar -"
"Fifteen,"• the man
said.
"Sixteen collar," the
shirtmaker repeated,
measuring again.
"But I've always worn a
15 collar," said the man.
"Listen," .the shirt -
maker said, "I'm warning
you. You keep on wearing
a 15 collar and your eyes
will pop and you'll have a
ringing in your ears."