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Times-Advocate, 1984-02-15, Page 4TImos-Advocoto, F•bruory 15, 1984 11.111.111111.11.11111.1111. Ames - 1111.111111111111111111111.11111111111.11MINIONAKINtIM dvocate Times Established 1873 Serving South Huron, North Middlesex Advocate Established 1881 & North Lambton Since 1873 Amalgamated 1924 Published by I.W. Eedy Publications Limited LORNE EEDY Publisher JIM BECKETT Advertising Manager BILL BATTEN Editor HARRY DEVRIES Composition Manager ROSS HAUGH Assistant Editor DICK JONGKIND Business Manager Published Each Wednesday Morning at Exeter, Ontario Second Class Mail Registration Number 0386. SUBSCRIPTION RATES: Canada: $22.00 Per year; U.S.A. $60.00 C.W.N.A., O.C.N.A. CLASS 'A' and 'ABC' 4 High risk venture It was a breath -taking sight as the U.S: shuttle Challenger roared aloft Friday morning, spewing flame from its booster rockets. But so accustomed have we become to such sights that we never heard the event mentioned in conversations in the following days. We have all entered the space age — so what? The space age, even though taken for granted, still poses some expensive hazards for those governments and corporations which are prepared to participate in flights and experiments beyond earth's atmosphere. Take the case of Western Union. That communications company contracted with the space administration to carry a satellite aloft and eject it into a predetermin- .l'.. .:u ed orbit where it would remain to relay millions of messages for its owners. So the astronauts pressed the appropriate button and out popped the Western Union satellite. The men did their job properly — only problem is that the satellite promptly got lost. At last report nobody knew whether it has blown jtself apart and is now nothing more than $75 million worth of orbiting junk. Most of us have lost a ring, a bunch of keys, even a watch. A few of us have "totalled" a car. But a 75 million dollarchunkof machinery? Boy, that's losing things, in a big way! Wingham Advance Times Not always intentional Pierre Bussierres, minister of national revenue, has been under heavy attack in the House of Commons over revelations that employees of his department have been overly zealous in their efforts to collect taxes. At week's end he made the statement that he didn't have much sympathy for tax evaders and they deserv- ed whatever trouble they brought upon themselves at the hands of the tax collectors. Quite true. The tax dodgers who intentionally avoid payment of legal taxes are robbing from those of us who pay our share without argument. However, the problem is a bit more complex than outright honesty or dishones.ty. Federal tax regulations have become so intricate and complicated that even highly -trained accountants find themselves baffled. In fact we know of a few accountants who have sought other careers rather than face the headaches of tax law interpretation. Friends of ours with a long-established business, worked out a father -son arrangement a few years ago, whereby the son could commence the purchase of the family business over a period of years. They are the most patently honest people we know, but after the father's death -Revenue Canada showed up on the son's doorstep with the unsettling news that he owed some $60,000 in federal taxes. The family business may well go down the drain to meet a tax bill of which the young owner was totally unaware. Perhaps the mo.,:, urgent need is not more, ruthless tax collectors, but simpler and more understandable regulations. Bank on relationships Tough times during the past couple of years have demonstrated the importance of a good relationship between a businessman and his banker. In all industries, however, are some individuals who learn slowly, or never learn at all. Canadian Farm Survival Association president Allan Wilford is among the latter. Wilford recently accused the chartered banks of adopting a "starve -out" policy toward farmers on shaky financial ground. By that, he means the banks don't foreclose, but, rather cut credit and stand back until the farmer himself recognizes the inevitability of having to close down. What else could Wilford possibly expect? Last year, he helped organize a series of domonstrations at farm foreclosure sales. Those demonstrations gave the banks publicity of a type they y definitely don't want. Next came proposed federal legislation (not passed) permitting hardpressed farmers to walk away from Lookout! I have never outgrown the awkward stage. I walk into plate glass windows, dip my scarf in my dinner partner's soup. step on the neighbour child's pet rabbit, and invariably try to open a push door with a pull, and vice versa. I'm ashamed to admit it (after all. I'm -the mother of three grown children ), but the perpetual scabs on my knees are bare- ly healed before I do something else that requires more iodine and a bigger bandaid. The day I was asked to take a picture of the winning volleyball team at Exeter Public School is a typical example. While approaching my car I slipped on the icy parking lot and suddenly found myself horizontal, eyeball to valve stem in an un- comforably close confrontation with the right rear tire of my car. I picked myself up, glanced self- consciously over my shoulder to see if there had been any witnesses, did a quick check which indicated the only injury was to my pride, and drove over to the school. That:s when I discovered I had left my notebook back on my desk. However, that was soon remedied. What better source of paper than a school? I took my pictures and, after a brief skirmish with the school's door, headed back to the car to find I was stuck on a patch of ice and could go neither forward nor back. Noticing my plight, the entire volleyball team streamed out into the cold in gym shorts and shirts and lifted me and the car back onto the road. I prudently waited un-- • Wifigham Advance Times their loan interest and repayment obligations. Needless to say, the banks didn't like that, either. There is no evidence whatever that banks are shut- ting the door to farmers who have reasonable chances of survival. However, it would not be surprising if some borderline cases, who might have been given extra credit a year ago, are now being refused. No one can blame the banks. Events of the past year or so have taught them to back off any potential farm foreclosure situation. It's worth remembering, too, that when bankers make a loan, they're not lending their own money. They're leading money entrusted to them by depositors. If the banks have adopted more cautious leading policies, and if some farmers who might otherwise have survived are forced out of business, the blame belongs in one place. That's on the shoulders of Allan Wilford and his fellow "farm survivalists." Country Guide Here I come! til all had returned to the school before proceeding on my way. I wa:. afraid (knowing me) I might accidentally run over one of my Sir Galahads. Colleagues aware of my reputation usually give me a wide berth, but 3�3� Reynolds' Rap by Yvonne Reynolds tt t sometimes their guard slips momentari- ly. Recently I was standing beside a fellow worker wearing a lovely new longsleeved turquoise sweater which I had complimented her on earlier. We were working side by side,oin through the newspaper file, when 1 turned to go back to my office. As I swung around 180 degrees my ever-present ball point pen transcribed a black indelible line from my unfortunate friend's elbow, over her sweatercuff, across the back of her hand and out to the tip of her index finger. The mark on her hand will eventually wear off. I don't know about the one on the sweater. Even coffee break brings no respite. On one occasion I pulled a styrofoam cup from the wall container, flipped the top off a bottle of diet Pepsi, sat down, hooked • my high heels over the rung of my chair and poured myself a cola. There was a hole in the botton of the cup. The conipany vice-president appeared on the scene just in time to see liquid flooding the table and dripping to the floor, and the perpetrator of this chaos trying instinctively to leap away from the scene of the accident, forgetting her legs were twined like pretzels around the chair. Taking in the scene at a glance he said, "Whatever she's drinking, I'll have some too!" The editor has not escaped unscathed. Only some fast defensive action saved him the time I bumped his arm - the one with a freshly poured cup of coffee on the end of it. His only comment was "Bully!" and that was said more in sorrow than in anger. . Allowing me behind the wheel of a car hust compounds my damage capability. I ave crumpled the trim while backing out of the garage, taken an unplanned detour through a partly combined cornfield after rounding a slippery curve too fast on my way to church, gone backwards into tur- nip fields and frontwards into snowbanks. I feel like the little character that used to appear in Al Capp comic strips. Remember the little Bap with the unpro- nounceable last name who walked through life under a visible black cloud, spreading disaster in his wake? The only difference is that, in my case, there is no cloud to warn you of my approach. REVENUE CANADA This is 1984 — Big Bussieres is watching! Well, it looks as though I'm going to have to con- tinue writing this here dang column whether I like it or not. People from all over the country have sent their condolences and told me to keep the column going. There's a truly beautiful letter from Elda and George Cadogan of New Brunswick, old, almost ancient friends, from my newspaper days. They were instrumental in urg- ing me to start syn- dicating my column. Another from Mr. and Mrs. Polischuk, Meacham, Sask. "Through your column, we felt we'd come to know you and your wife - something like the morn- ing man on your favorite station. You seem like such special people. Please do keep writing." A sweet note from Sister Mary Hamilton of Camrose, Alta. "Your writing brings me, as I'm sure it does for countless folks, many a chuckle, and always hope, to a mixed- up, restless world ... May your `grandboys' be not far from you and continue to be a joy". This along with a spiritual message of hope and faith. And a long note from a little kid who lived across from us when I was a mere youth, Lorna Munro. She reminds me that her mother and mine were best friends. These were the depression years. "I never heard them speak to, or of, each other except by "Mrs. Smiley" and "Mrs. Munro". This was the manner of life in those "Sure — take the easy way out!" Will continue days and did, in no way, reflect less caring than more famliar names would indicate.... "When you were mar- ried I think your mother thought Susie was very young and you were a man -of -the -world (dam - mit,. I was, Lorna). I Sugar and Spice Dispensed By Smiley • remember first seeing Susie, looking so lovely, with long, brown hair." And a lot more from this pretty little kid, who is now a mother, planning a wedding for her own daughter. She adds, "Please continue. Many people will gain strength from how you work your way to a new life, sadly thrust upon you." And many more in like vein. So I'm stuck with youse, and youse are stuck with me. There was one more letter that I almost threw out as junk mail without opening. Glad I didn't. It told me that, thanks to my local funeral director, Dean Nicholls, also a friend, that a tree would be planted, in the Grand Valley Conserva- tion Foundation, "In living memory of your wife." Thanks, Dean. I've taught both his kids, and they are fine young people. I've been at a party when his wife, Elaine, was snowmobiling, and went through the ice, pregnant. Right now, just as I'm writing this column, I received a long-distance call from San Clemente, from a lady who still receives her old home- town paper, the Kindersley weekly, ex- pressing sympathy. I 5y Yfi think San Clemente is in California, but she gave me her phone number and asked me to visit, if I'm travelling: We both chok- ed up on the phone. Well, this is becoming a little sick. I've merely touched the surface of the letters, calls, cards, food. I'll try to cut it out. So. Suse has a grave, which she didn't want, a tree planted somewhere, and a scholarship fund for piano students, which she would have loved, and for which money is still com- ing in. I hope she is at peace. She didn't have much during her life, because of her nature. She was a perfectionist. If it was a piano exam, she'd tackle the most difficult piece. If it was a university essay, she'd take on a topic which made even the professors wince. Something like: "The Interrelationship between William Blake and the Philosophy of Hegel." No Way. I always chose something I could handle, like "Emily Dickinson Wrote Runt Poetry." And she was the same around the house. Some women clean their ovens once a month, once a year. She did it every week. But her misfortune was that she married a slob, who thought a bath once a week was plenty, if not over -doing it. When the lawn was raked, she wanted every leaf off it. There was not ring around the collar around this place. She fought with plumbers, electricians, the gas company, and anyone else who tried to give her the go-arotind, while I read the paper. She made me change my underwear. She nearly went through the roof when the grandboys ran their cars and trucks over her polished coffee table. And yet she.went to my daughter's, and fed, changed, baby-sat and gave moral support for two or three weeks after they were born. She grouched and grumbled at me about our rotten kids, who are always broke. Then she'd send them a handsome cheque to bail them out. When she was on a ,sigh I Used to hide, because she wanted to do eight things at once. When she wan't I came out of hiding and tried to convince her that every man does the best he can, which would make her flare up and say, "O.K. You cook the dinner." How about HASH? I think that it's about time that the husbands of the world unite and form a group. Let's see now. We could call it HASH - Husbands Against Shopp- ing Hazards. We could set up little stands just before you go into those great big malls and give out pamphlets to all the fellows driving in with big smiles on their faces not realizing the deadly danger they are so blithely entering into. I'll bet half those guys out there think that all those other men they see walking around the lady's themselves. slacks department (same What do you think? counter, three times to the Maybe we could form a Perspectives By Syd Fletcher left, three times to the right, once more to the left in case you've missed that neat mauve pair) are thoroughly enjoying group to lopby in Parlia- ment for the abolition of any store that doesn't sell computers, tires, or at least a good brand of record players. The group could campaign in elec- tions and refuse to elect any man who doesn't pro- mise an armchair outside of every change room. Then we could threaten to overthrow any party which won't promise to abolish plastic money. I tell you fellows, the possibilities are endless if HASH ever gets off the ground. Tell you what. I'll write the first pamphlet right after i get her out of these January sales.