HomeMy WebLinkAboutTimes Advocate, 1991-10-30, Page 4Page 4 Times -Advocate, October 30, 1991
/11 WM
7.1
Publisher: Jim Beckett
News Editor: Adrian Harte
Business Manager: Don Smith
Composition Manager: Deb Lord
Second Class Mall Registration Number 0386
SUBSCRIPTION RATES: DADA
Within 40 miles (85 km.) addressed
to non tetter canter addresses 530.00 plus 52.10 O.S.T.
Outisde 40 miles (85 km.) or any letter carrier address
530.00 plus 530.00 postage (total 580.00) plus 54.20 O.S.T.
Outside Canada 588.00
EDI )R 1.\.1,
Get 'em while they're hot
Grand Bend's municipal elec-
tion is certainly one of the
most hotly -contested in the
area. Council has been portrayed,
mostly unfairly, . as being responsible
for the problems the village has experi-
enced in past years.
Questions asked by voters at Friday
evening's candidates meeting clearly in-
dicated that the public is looking for a
council that will forge ahead to a future
free of the division between the tran-
sient and permanent populations of the
village. Residents, and successful can-
didates, may be disappointed with what
can be accomplished with the village's
meagre budget.
Nevertheless, we offer here a brief
opinion of the council candidates' per-
formances on Friday evening, with
which you are free to agree or disagree.
Firstly, mayor candidate Todd De-
saulniers may have been disappointed
with the lack of questions directed his
way by the public. He may be wonder-
ing how that will translate at the polls.
Reeve Bruce Woodley, although seen
as a lightning rod for public discontent,
may have impressed some with the
clear and honest way in which he ex-
plained council's shortcomings to deal
with pressures that came its way.
Mayor candidate Tom Lawson made
good use of his abrupt speaking style
and came across in a forthright manner.
However, his platform that Grand
Bend needs to buy itself a new image
was worn a little thin by the end of the
evening, especially when he ducked the
bypass issue by saying the village's im-
age was already a bypass.
Councillor incumbent Bill Uniac may
have been pleased by the fact he re-
ceived not accusatory questions, but had
a chance to answer well those few he
got.
Incumbent John McDowell, however,
while a good speaker, had a few scratch-
ing their heads over his 41 for change
on council. This also annoyed the other
incumbents.
Councillor candidate Ed Fluter was
clearly a favourite of the question peri-
od, and that should fare him well at the
polls.
Cam Ivey resisted the temptation to of-
fer wild election promises, even though
asked for his "vision" of Grand Bend's
future.
Phil McGuire was only asked a couple
of questions and was probably not able
to make as good an impression as he
wished. The same applies to Don Boy -
es and Angelo Maruca.
Of course, once elected, the new coun-
cil will have but a short while to make a
positive impression on the villagers.
Due to the boundary adjustment negotia-
tions, another election will have to be
held in Grand Bend next year to accom-
modate the new voters. That point was
not brought up on Friday, and many
Grand Bend residents are still unaware
they will be back at the polls so soon.
A.D.H.
The Sirens -a Hallowe'en story
It was getting dark. I was still
at the office. Elizabeth had al-
ready called twice. Supper was
ready. And she reminded me
that I had promised to take the
kids trick -or -treating.
As I turned the thermostat
down - I always do that when I
leave the office - I heard a
knock on the door. Two shad-
owy figures stood there. My of-
fice is quite hidden, out of the
way, and I was not expecting
any Hallowe'en visitors.
"I have nothing here to give
you," I said. "Come and walk
over to the house with me. It's
next door. We have treats there."
Then I saw that the shadows
were not children, but women.
Onc said:
"We're not here for candy, Pe-
ter. We want you to come with
us. Now."
There was an accent I couldn't
place. Eastem Europe? Middle
East? Hard to tell.
"Do you know me? I certainly
don't know who you arc," I said,
still suspecting nothing.
"I'm Parthenope, and this is
Leucosia," the taller woman
said. She almost sang the words.
i couldn't see her face because
she wore a veil. But what eyes
she had! Eyes are always the
first feature I notice in women.
Their eyes tell their story.
Parthenopc and Leucosia kept
their black eyes fixed on me.
They stared. I felt radiation en-
tering my brain. I stood motion-
less in the open door, just wait-
ing for something foreign to
penetrate me.
I locked the door, and the
women took me away. I don't re-
member being carried or even
touched. One moment I was
standing outside my office, and
the next moment I was in Para-
dise. There was no doubt.
I was stretched out on a black
divan, dressed in a richly em-
-Peter's
Point
Peter Hesse'
broidered garment. The two
women squatted next to me on
the floor, one on each side,
wearing long, flowing white
gowns. They were without veils
now, and I saw that their faces
were beautiful. Ephemeral, un-
earthly. Stunning.
Parthenopc and Leucosia
stood up and fanned me. Only
then did I realize the heat. -Once
I had become aware of it, I
found it unbearable, oppressing.
I was burningup with heat. 1
was hotter than I had ever been
in a sauna or in the desert. I en-
joyed being fanned, but I ached
for a cold drink. Before I could
ask for one, the women snapped
their fingers. A richly omament-
ed silver tray appeared and hov-
ered in the air next to me. On
the tray was a tall, stemmed
glass. A stream of clear liquid
appeared and filled the glass un-
til it overflowed.
"What is it?" i asked Leucosia.
"Try it. You will like it," she
smiled. Her smile flowed from
her mouth and entered my body.
I put the glass to my lips, care-
fiilly tasting the cold drink. It
was sweet and refreshing, but I
couldn't identify it. Greedily I
"Men are never so likely
to settle a question rightly
as when they discuss it
freely."
... Thomas Macauley
Published Each Wednesday Morning st 424 Main St.,
Exeter, Ontario, NOM 1.56 by LW. Eedy Publoatlons Ltd.
Telephone 1-53.9-235.1331
0.0.T. 15105210031
swallowed again and emptied
the glass.
Now Leucosia sang. Quietly at
first, then growing louder.
Parthenope joined her. The mel-
ody was pleasant, and yet it dis-
turbed me. It resembled no mu-
sic I had ever heard. It was
without rhythm. The singing be-
came louder, even shrill, until it
grew into savage, barbarous
screaming. Soon everything
around me reverberated and os-
cillated. The glass in my hand
shattered. Now the voices of the
women tumed into eerie wails.
They wailed like sirens. Sirens!
I suddenly realized who my two
companions were. 1 said the
word: "Sirens! sirens!" Then I
shouted: "Sirens! You are si-
rens!"
The singing stopped abruptly.
The women looked at me in si-
lence. Their eyes were like dag-_
gets. -Now they smiled again,
but there was sadness in their
faces. They let their black hair
fall from their heads, and I saw
how long it was. it reached
down to their feet.
The women - the sirens - were
graceful and lovely - a treat for
my eyes, and yet I was unsatis-
fied. I wanted the music again. I
needed the music. Now, now. I
begged them to sing. And they
did. Even louder and wilder than
before. In their song I heard the
mysterious sounds of the jungle.
The bestial roar of tigers. The
loathsome hissing of snakes.
Their song was as the thunder of
hooves on the grassy plains, as
the clashing of spears in battle,
as the uncontrolled cry of wom-
en in ecstasy and the woeful
moaning of tortured souls.
- to be continued next week -
Questions, no answers,
part two
I don't really know why I like
autumn better than all the other
seasons combined.
Logically, I can tell myself
that spring holds all the promise
for the coming warm summer
months, but in the end I find my-
self convinced that the perpetual
rains of September and October
win me over every time.
Perhaps, just perhaps, its the
fact that while spring and sum-
mer promise warm lazy days,
autumn can only foreshadow the
dark, cold months ahead. And
so each day of sunshine, each
day when the rain does not tum
to snow or sleet, is a day stolen
from winter. A day to be rel-
ished and enjoyed, for tomorrow
it may freeze.
A lot of things like that don't
make much sense. Take postal
strikes for instance. Everybody,
just everybody complains about
them. Why?
I don't see what leads people
to fear being cut off from their
malt.-- It's "root as --if anybody in
this hemisphere actually writes
letters anymore. 1 expect my
only communication with my
mailbox is much the same as
anybody else's. Apart from the
occasional magazine all I re-
ceive arc bills. Who could
moan about being distanced
Hold that
thought...
By
Adrian Harte
from our bills for a few days or
weeks? And yet we do.
I gave up a pint of blood the
other day. Strangely enough it
was my first time as a blood do-
nor. It had seemed that any oth-
er time the Ausablc Nomads
were hosting the clinic in town,
I was snuffling and sneezing
with some virus or another.
This time, I - survived tie flu a
few weeks ago and was deemed
healthy enough to spare some
extra blood.
Despite frequent warnings
about what I might experience
Letter to Editor
and the watchful stare of nurses
and helpers to see if I would
faint, I disappointed them all by
remaining conscious. Some jok-
ers on the other gurneys were
trying to convince me I was
turning pale, but I decided to ig-
nore them.
"Let me know if I turn blue,
that's all I ask," 1 thought.
Nevertheless, the only effect I
imagined was that on my walk
home, my shoelaces seemed a
little looser than before.
Last Wednesday evening I at-
tended the awards presentation
for Steve and Audrey Skinner at
the London Regional Art Gal-
lery. While the honoured couple
were somewhat surprised that 1
had found out about the award (I
have spies) I had to admit to be-
ing somewhat impressed that the
efforts of two people and a few
friends, along with the support
of 350 participants, were able to
equal and surpass the fundrais-
ing power of several businesses
and corporations.
What is it they say about smal
town spirit?
Reader concerned about violence
To the Editor:
i would like to congratulate the
writer of a piece in last weeks
paper on "Hockey is too violent". I
do agree with her a hundred per-
cent.
Surely there is a way something
can be done. I have spent many
hours in the arena since our sons
played peewee to our grandsons
now playing and
each year via
knee has grown.
I would like to
thank Sharon for
speaking out1)
against this violence, somethin;
our society is trying hard to dez
with.
Sincerely
Alva Heywooc
A hockey grandmf
We welcome vow portion. All letters to the editor must be signed and are subject to editing.
Deliver to 424 Main Street, or mal! to P.O. Box 850, Exeter, Ont. NOM 1S6