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HomeMy WebLinkAboutTimes-Advocate, 1985-03-13, Page 4Page 4 Times -Advocate, March 13. 1985 Times Established 1873 Advocate Established 1881 Amalgamated 1924 Published Each Wednesday Morning at Exeter, Ontario, NOM 1S0 Second Class Mail Registration Number 0386. Phone 519-235-1331 LORNE EEDY Publisher IIM BECKETT• Advertising Manager PCNA BILL BATTEN Editor HARRY DEVRIES Composition Manager ROSS HAUGH Assistant Editor DICK IONGKIND Business Manager SUBSCRIPTION RATES: Canada: $23.00 Per year; U.S.A. $60.00 C.W.N.A., O.C.N.A. CLASS 'A' The search is on Possibly following the cue of the department store which advertises that the last day of one sale is the first of the next, the Ontario Com- munity Newspaper Association has already embarked on the search for the 1986 winners of the junior citizen awards. The 1985 winners were recognized at the recent convention of the OCNA when Lieutenant Governor John Black Aird was on hand to present each with a suitable plaque as well as a CP Air ticket for any Canadian destination. Those in the audience who heard of the exploits and activities of the winners were humbled by the ac- complishments of these young people who ranged in age from seven to 18. The recipients ranged from 10 -saving -heroes to those rising above physical limitations or those who give outstan- ding service to their respective communities. Aird told the audience that while the recipients were "just like normal kids" they put other people's needs above their own and •demonstrated bravery, courage and unstinting con- cern for others. The entire student body from two high schools were given special recognition for projects they undertook. Once again, there were no nominees from this area, despite the fact many area youths display the qualifications and leadership capacities evidenced by the winners and nominees from across the province. There's a whole year before the award presentation rolls around again. Hopefully, area residents will keep it . in mind and nominate some of the young people in their communities. Many of our young people make outstanding contributions to the image of their generation. Let's let the whole province know about them! Serving South Huron, North Middlesex & North Lambton Since 1873 Published by J.W. Eedy Publications Limited MILLER SERVICES "No need to thank me —just part of my make-work programa!" Warm memories An old friend died recently, and though I was saddened, news of his death brought back some warm memories. He was Captain D'Alt Hudson. Fd always called him Dalt, think- ing it was short for Dalton. When I saw the fancy D'Alt in his Lakes, he was delighted. We began to exchange yarns, found that we knew many people in common: Capt. Bill Taylor of the ill-fated Noronic, Capt. Harold Miller of Wiarton, and others. We had shared the shabby beverage room of the old Mariaggi Hotel in Port Arthur, as it was then. We'd Cuts will hurt Is there a future 'for Canadian youth? Recently the federal government made a decision to reduce its funding to Katimavik by almost 63 percent. Since Katimavik has been regarded in the past as a Liberal brainchild there are varying opinions as to why fun- ding of this project was reduced so drastically, says The Huron Expositor. Whatever the exact reason, it is apparent there will be repercussions as a result of the decision. Now, when there is rising unemployment among young people and places in higher Traversingthe canyons Y education are almost impossible to get, it appears that yet another avenue for youth to learn, grow and contribute to Canada is being blocked off. Cutting Katimavik will also mean a lost opportunity for youth of today to witness Canada as one entity rather than a country composed of a number of cultures and provinces, each totally segregated from one another. If our programs for today's youth continue to' be treated as the under- dogs in the battle against federal cut- backs, one has to wonder, will there be a tomorrow'? Only donkeys live below the ca- nyon walls at Grand Canyon, no doubt adding to the derogatory labels often associated with the species. Some of those labels must surley be applicable to many residents of Toronto. because a visit there indicates beyond any doubt that the number of people dwelling in the ever-increasing canyons is mounting by the minute. The race to reach the sun. or perhaps to close it out entirely. is being fought tooth and nail on practically every street the writer traversed while attending the recent weekly newspaper convention. The race is also being waged underground and some of our more athletic compatriots (or perhaps those who couldn't foot the $2 taxi ride i found that it is now possible to walk underground from Union Station right up to the towering hotels along university and Richmond St. Even having accommodation on the 22nd floor of the Westin Hotel. i found, provides no guarantee that one can look out the window and see the lights and sights of the sprawling city below. The only view you get is of the 22nd floor of the building across the street. although if the rising smog isn't ton heavy. you do get a glimpse of the top few feet of the CNR tower hovering in the background. Far below in the sunless valleys. one sees the moles trudg- ing their way along the streets, detouring for the many work pro- jects underway to either expand the city upwards or farther down into its bowels. it's a place where the retailers of sunglasses have gone the same way as the dodo bird and buggy whip salesmen. * It's been a couple of years since the writer visited downtown hogtown. In that time they've ap- peared to rebuild the city and of Batt'n Around ...with The Editor ... ............ ............. course when they get Bill's dom- ed stadium erected, it will again be transformed. As part of the newspaper con- vention activities. we enjoyed breakfast at the new convention centre which the taxpayers of On- tario have provided for the city at a cost of around $100,000,000. It's rather difficult to describe the size and scope of this struc- ture. But here's a sample: the en- tire population of Ilensall could be sealed in the plush seats in the two-tiered theatre and a good portion of them could drive their cars onto the mammoth stage to park while they enjoyed the program. The residents of IlensaII, Lucan and Exeter i and possibly half the population of Dashwoodt could be fed at one time from the produc- tion kitchen and 39 of the buses that would carry the area residents to the celrtre can be unloaded of passengers at one time at two different locations. Half the semi -trailers one sees parked at Laidlaw Transport's local yard can be driven into the display area and unloaded at one time and a majority of the mer- , chants in -Exeter could take their entire store inventories down and set them up and still have room for customers to walk around. The facility has a road that runs right through the centre of it and is equipped with transla- tion facilites in the many assembly areas that can be divid- ed into small sections or opened up to facilitate mammoth crowds. The carpet is laid down in squares that can be lifted to open up dance floors. The listof amenities could be continued at some length, but suffice it to say that we have looked after our ci- ty cousins very well in providing them with a facility to attract huge numbers and fill their pockets from the visitors. There's little doubt that Toron- to hotel owners know how to fill their pockets and they're rapid- ly approaching some hospital rates when it comes to charging for rooms and services. While the convention rate ex- tended to the weekly newspaper people was around $70 per room. the listing on the wall showed that the regular rate for double oc- cupancy was $160 and it was $140 for single occupancy. Meals or booze served in rooms were totally out of sight on the cost barometer. So• if you're planning a trip to the big city, you may want to look around and see what family heirlooms you can pawn to raise the necessary funds. with the noble ancestors in his background. He had many of the traits of an aristocrat: a hawk'1ike profile, an impatience with fools, a grand courtesy with the ladies. My wife thought him a perfect gentleman. He wasn't perfect. but he was a gentleman. When I first met him, he was long retired from his career as a captain on the Great Lakes, though he occasionally skippered some rich man's yacht down the inland waterways to Florida. He didn't drink, but he told me with a glint in his eye that he'd been a "heller" as a young fellow. However, he did smoke, a pipe, which rarely left his mouth, even when he was playing billiards. And that's where we met - at the billiards table in the curling club. There was no one else around. and he asked if I'd like a game: 1 modestly told him I hadn't played in years, neglec- ting to add that I'd been something of a pool shark when I was in high school. I made a few decent shots. though he beat me easily. Ile was a 75 -year-old shark. We played a few more times and some of my old skills came back and i was able to give him a game, occa- sionally fluking a win. We enjoyed each other's com- pany, though there were three decades between us. We played the same kind of pool, needling the opponent, trying to talk him out of shots, but never with malice, and a straight face and "tough luck" when the needler's ploy worked, or the opponent scratched or miscued. When D'Alt learned that I had sailed for five summers on the Can't_ i think it's about time that the southpaws of the world got together and mounted a united at- tack against all the right-handers who discriminate against .us. Let's start with the language and do the same things the women have been doing with chair person and personhandle. • We need to do things left now and start giving people right- handed compliments and saying , that that zany professor of yours is left out in right field with his ideas. That clown who works with you who is so awkard with his manners Netter he 'droite' in- stead of 'gauche'. When you're playing a trick on the new kid in the shop send him for a 'right- handed monkey' wrenchinstead of you know what. i can remember Miss Steele in Grade 6 hark in Georgetown of '37 or '38. in short, Cap took me as his Sugar & Spice Dispensed by . Smiley protege, as a sailor and a pretty fair billiards shooter. He loved to entice passers-by into playing a game with me, always introduc- ing me, craftily, as "a high school teacher." This would ensure an easy win for the victim, as it is obvious that school teachers could never be pool sharks. Then the old devil would stand by and shortie to himself as I cleaned the victim's clock, loser buying the drinks. When it became. clear that 1 was no easy mark. D'Alt came up with the idea of a club champion- ship tournament for Russian billiards. This would bring in the local sharks. and some real competition. He organized it. put a plaque on the wall, and play begin. He didn't take part. though he could have won it handily. My first op- ponent, the terror of the local pool halls. scared me when he brought his own custom-made cue. I heat him. My last opponent, a brilliant but reckless player, won the first two games cit was best three out of five). Somehow, mostly due to his dashing but dangerous play, i won the next three. D'Alt was delighted and pro- mptly had my name affixed to the plaque. It's still there, as far as I know. Then there was the time he took me fishing for bass, out in the Bay. He had a stubby%, roomy, trusty old boat that chugged out to the fishing grounds while we exchanged anecdotes and lies.. fish were. We heaved anchor, cut the motor, and while he filled his pipe and gave me instructions about bait as though I were a six- year-old, we bet a quarter on who'd get the first fish. I flipped my line in while he was getting his pipe smoking and whipped a bass in on my first cast. D'Alt let go a few choice ex- pletives concerning young punks taking advantage of elderly gentlemen. We filled our quota and started for home. At least we started to start for home. But the motor wouldn't catch. He tried everything, including some language I'd never heard before. Nothing worked. So there we were. two men in a boat, half a mile from shore. D'Alt was furious, with himself, the boat and the world. Here he was, a renowned Captain, helpless, marooned at sea in a tubby little launch, with a guest aboard. We finally attracted the atten- tion of another boat which towed us ignominiously to shore. We finally got to a telephone and he called his son, Doug, and told him in no uncertain terms to come and get us. Two or three hours later we were home. by car. Left the boat, brought the fish. D'Alt was in a fairly black mood and unusually taciturn. 1 was chuckling inward- ly but didn't say a word. It was not my pride that was hurt. Typically, he insisted i take all the fish. I stopped curling and we saw each other only occasionally, but the old warmth was there. Maybe i'll see you again, D'Alt, at that big billiard table in the sky. be totally bad Public School. Those were the days when you used the straight pen nibs. Dip. Write one word. Blot. Dip again. When you were By the Way by Syd Fletcher left-handed you had the choice of blotting every word or smearing it. i don't think i ever had a passably neat paper until ball- point pens came along. The easy solution, as i see it, would be td force everybody to write from right to left or at the very least from top to bottom. if one billion Chinese can do it, it can't be total- ly had. While we're at it we ought to do something about car doors and pop cans that I swear were never made for me and my lefty friends. What really gets me is that so many people hang their clothes up on hangars backwards. As .any reasonable person can tell you the front of a coat should point to the left when it hangs in the closet. Bet you didn't notice that before. did you? i tell you, someday. just like they say 'the south will rise again', so shall we lefties revolt. Someday you'll go to take the nuts off your flat tire and guess what. You've got it. You'll have tightened them on like glue and won't be able to get them off un- til some southpaw comes along and graciously shows you the left way to take them off.