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GODERICH SIGNAL -STAR, WEDNESDAY, OCTOBER 14, 1987
SECTION
1 4
lin � ( t,;
Ctluw.
WILLIAM
THOMAS
Dunnville oil
painting sale
is a big deal
I had to read the flyer several times to
feel the full impact of its message: • A
Giant Art Show in Dunnville". In
Dunnville,
This islike reading an ad for front row
seats to the premier of the Canadian Na-
tional Ballet's Binbrook engagement.
When you live in Wainfleet, an oil pain-
ting sale in Dunnville is one big deal. It
would be like someone from Geralton
waking up and finding out there was a
tasting of fine wines in Sudbury that very
same day.
And "Nothing Over $69". It has•been a
life-long dream of mine to collect Renoirs
and Cezannes for under $69 apiece.
I was out of here so fast the car door
didn't close until Lowbanks.
There's a flat openness to the coun-
tryside in old Haldimand that seems to
spell honesty in a rural way of life. The
roads are wider, the cars move slower
and Hamilton and Toronto seem a lot far-
ther away than they are. It was a Sunday
and the churches, mainly Baptist, were
doing a brisk business. Of course the golf
'course I passed looked filled to capacity
as well. There you have it — a virtual tie
between those who, atone for their sins
and those who pefer self-flagulation
. with driver and putters.
I passed by a large sign that anounced
"Stroinness" but I did not see a town. I
wondered if -maybe irrsome mad scram-
ble of amalgamation, a big city had
taken the town but left the sign behind.
The pleasantness of ' this Sunday's
drive was shattered by reality — a' sign
at Dunnville's city limits that declared:
"C.U.P.E. on Legal Strike".
' Inside the Dunnville Memorial Arena
— Home of The Dunnville Mudcats, 10
old guys go through the motions .of a
hockey game. They have no substitutes,
few front teeth and a significant shortage
of enthusiasm. Last night's popcorn is
piled high againstThe glass window of the'
canteen.
Across the entire lengthof one wall of
the arena is spelled the word "Dunn-
ville" in five foot letters. Redundancy.
nags at me, If you're from Dunnville, you
don't need a sign in the arena to tell
you you're at home.
If you're not trom 'Dunnville then
you've ' just driven 40 miles on back
roads, been lost three times and arrived
in your seat in time to catch the last
period of play. You don't need the huge
"Dunnville" sign rubbing salt in the
wound.
If they really wanted to assist '.
travellers they'd take the. "Dunnville"
sign and put it in downtown Port Dover
prefaced by the words "This Is Not ... '
In the hall upstairs the "must be li-
quidated", "prices are ridiculous",
"shop and compare" art show was in 1
progress.
And it wasn't bad, it really wasn't. Any
art show that doesn't have a silk screen
of Elvis or a wrinkled couple- posing
behind a pitchfork gets four stars by me.
There were dozens of street scenes
with flower vendors in places I recogniz-
ed
to be Amsterdam, Florence, Cannes
and Paris. There were so many paintings '
of Paris' Place Pigalle that I thought if
artists really painted what they saw, all
these scenes would include bleachers full
of other artists painting the Place
Pigalle.
That's what I was looking for — reali-
ty, with a little bit of Dunnville on the
side.
The eighteenth century lady with her
bonnet and parasol by the seashore was
nice but I guess what I wanted was a
frazzled looking woman dragging her
husband by the ear out of his chair at the
Queen's Hotel with six draught on the
table and the clock showing 'five minutes
to closing.
There were paintings of deer and pan-
da bears and seagulls and lots of mallard
ducks but not a mudcat to be found.
There were sailing ships and fishing
boats and harbour scenes but what I
wanted was a full -colour picture of one of
the Bastien brothers hauling boxes of
filleted perch off their trawler at Port'
Maitland, a small bushel of pickerel they
take home for themselves sitting off to
the side.
There must have been two dozen pain-
tings of bowls of flowers and fruit but not
one of big Elroy in front of Elroy's
Market next to the arena grinning from a
wooden fold -up chair.
There were painted Indians on
horseback but what I really wanted was
an action portrait of Happy Ort in a 1950's
moth-eaten Mudcat uniform, cutting in
all alone on a goaltender who'd come too
far out of his crease.
A little girl building a sand castle off
Cape Cod is okay but what I most wanted
to see was a 10 -year-old in overalls
tvrestling with a 12 -pound catfish in the
bull rushes beside the Grand River.
I was looking for the soul of Dunnville
and what I found was the world in oil —
i all for under $69.
It wasn't a disaster mind you. I mean
the mayor didn't show up to say a few
Turn to page 10 •
THANKSGIVING
e walk on starry fields of white
And do not see the daisies;
For blessings common in our sight
We rarely offer praises.
We sigh for some supreme delight
To crown our lives with splendor,
And quite ignore our daily store
Of pleasures sweet and tender.
Our cares are bold and push their way
Upon our thought and feeling.
They hang about us all the day,
Our time from pleasure stealing.
So unobtrusive many a joy
We pass by and forget it,
But worry strives to own our lives,
And conquers if we let it.
There's not a day in all the year
But holds some hidden pleasure,
And looking back, joys oft appear
To brim the past's wide measure.
But blessings are like friends, 1 hold,
Who love and labor near us.
We might to raise our notes of praise
Wl`e living hearts can hear as.
Full,many a blessing wears the guise
t Jorry or of trouble;
Farijeeing, is the soul, and wise,
Who knows the mask is double.
Rut he who has the faith- alid strength
To thank his God foto sorrow
Has found a joy without alloy
TO gladden every morrow.
We ought to snake die mro encs notes
Of i appy, glid(rilintisgiOffigo.
'hn lCnit3 aibdtl is i ~lint *wee
its t g. •
nd sed tie t e*l howl s. 41100 grow
echo a td oaths; pass Vet us,