HomeMy WebLinkAboutZurich Citizens News, 1966-06-23, Page 2PAGE TWO
ZURICH CITIZENS NEWS
THURSDAY, JUNE 23, 1900
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Menace
If you are a male human being, 16 to
25 years old, then this editorial is written
especially for you. If you are the parent
of a boy in this age group then you too
should find this editorial of interest. To
be quite blunt about it, you young gentle-
men are the worst drivers in the world.
This fact is bad enough but what makes
it worse is that you think you are the best
drivers in the world. Nothing, however,
could be further from the truth as any
insurance agent will tell you. Don't get
the idea that the reason for your high in-
surance rates is that you are being dis-
criminated against. This is not so. The
insurance companies' rates are in an exact
ratio with the statistics that they have on
car accidents. Most insurance agents don't
even want your insurance at any cost but
usually end up taking it because your dad
is a good customer of theirs and they feel
that they owe him this.
By now you are no doubt crawling the
walls and you are saying to yourself this
is all rubbish, after all between the ages
of 16 and 25 our reflexes are at their best,
our vision is at its best and further we
know how to take four barrel carburetors
apart with our eyes closed. This is all true
but you lack one vital ingredient which
can be summed up simply as "judgment".
Your judgment stinks, you have an overrid-
ing desire to show off. You think that you
can prove you are a man to your girl
friend, or to the other fellows by fast and
reckless driving. In fact all you are doing
is proving that you have no right to have
a driver's license at all. If your parents
don't believe me then take a drive around
town some Friday between one and three
o'clock in the morning and see for your-
self,
We hear a lot these days about build-
ing safer cars. This is good but the fact
remains that the large majority of acci-
dents are -caused by human failure, not
Car failure.
You're asking by now how come he
knows so much about the way we drive.
The answer is simple, for it's not so long
ago that I was in your particular age group.
I was lucky, I am still alive and when I
hear of accidents involving young people
I think of myself, "There' but for the
grace of God, go I". Another reason that
I am still alive is that when I was your
age my '39 Dodge had a maximum down-
hill. wind -behind -me speed of 65 m.p.h.
Whereas today you are driving cars that
are capable of up to 100 m,p:h.
What steps can be taken to curb this
senseless slaughter on our highways?
Firstly, by raising the age that you can
get a driver's license to 18, and secondly,
by having a mental aptitude test as well
as a writen and practical test.
If you are still with me please don't
take this as a personal attack because I
know that many of you are good, compe-
tent drivers. The unfortunate thing is
that you have to take the blame for those
in your age group that are not, you also
have to pay for their accidents by paying
higher insurance rates than anyone else,
Next time you are behind the wheel of a
car, please, for everyone's sake use good
judgment.—The Boissevain (Man.) Recorder
Did You Lock Your Car?
Did you lock your car when you Left it
on the street yesterday? If so, you may
have stopped a youngster from starting on
a life of crime.
The Ontario Safety League quotes U.S.
reports that more than two-thirds of all
cars stolen are taken by school-age young-
sters.
oungsters. Police records show that some boys
begin taking cars for "joy rides" when as
young as 10 years old, but the real prob-
lems begins at 13 or 14 and tapers off
sharply after 17.
Authorities who deal closely with ju-
venile auto thefts blame much of it on the
casual attitude of the car -owning public. It
is almost invariably the unlocked cars that
get stolen; many of them with the keys
left dangling in the ignition.
Normal parking precautions can offer
little defence against the determined, pro-
fessional auto thief. But a large propor-
tion of illegally removed cars are taken by
juveniles who delude themselves that it
is not really stealing to drive away in a
car that has been left open, whereas they
would hesitate to break into locked car.
Most stolen cars are recovered, They
are abandoned at the end of the "joy ride"
or when the gas runs out. Often they are
unharmed, and the owners suffer nothing
worse than anxiety and inconvenece. But
•too often they are recovered after •damage
and bloodshed, resulting from incompe-
tent, reckless or panic driving.
Surveys have shown that ear thefts
drop as much as two-thirds after strict en-
forcement of key removal laws. The OSL
asks all drivers to help protect the public,
as well as their own property, by making
their cars as secure as possible when left
parked.
Perils of Being An Editor
There are many things we like about
editing a newspaper and some things we
don't enjoy.
Last week we came up against two in-
stances which made us feel that there
might be better vocations than being an
editor but we could do nothing about it.
One gentleman came in with the de-
mand that we never print his name in this
newspaper, no mater what happened. He
had a gripe about omitting the name of
someone else who was in the news.
We told him that if there ever was an
occasion to use his name or the name of
any member of his family it would be used,
regardless •of his •demand. We told him
we never make news --we only endeavor
to print it.
Another fine old gentleman, who said
that he had been a subscriber for over 50
years, called us on the telephone with the
information that his subscription was about
expire and that he wanted his name
taken off the list "right now".
He said that we had "hurt" someone.
It wasn't him, he insisted, but another per-
son He would not tell us and we don't
know who it was, nor which news item or
items he had in mind.
We never intend to hurt anyone and
we are sorry this gentleman won't be read-
ing our paper any longer. We'd gladly
send him a free subscription for life if
we thought he couldn't afford the $4 -per -
year subscription price.
Again, we fall back behind the plea
that we don't "make" news, we "print" it,
let the chips fall where they may. Therein
lies the perils of the newspaper business.
—Sparta (III.) News-Plaindealer.
This Is Sport?
There's a man down in western On-
tario who's importing wild boars from Hun-
gary. He already has a male of the species
and three females. He plans to breed
these four animals.
He calls himself a conservationist, but
what he plans to do with the offspring
of these boars is about as far from the con-
servation of animal life as Timbuctoo is
from Toronto.
His plan is nothing but an organized
slaughter.
When the young boars are old enough
he will let them run wild in a 500 -acre
field. He will enclose this field to "pro-
tect the public" from these "wild" animals.
Then he will charge hunters a fee to
shoot the "wild" animals in the enclosed
500 -acre field.
"You have to use a high-powered rifle
to bring these animals down — a .22 won't
do," he says.
A hunter with a telescopic sight could
sit in a rocking chair in one corner of the
field and pick off an animal located kitty-
corner without a single rock of his rocking
chair.
He calls this conservation.
You might as well shoot fish in a
barrel.—The Era, Newmarket -Aurora, Ont.
Zurk'h
nuc News
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HERB TURKHElMl„ Publisher J E. HUNT, Plant Superintendent
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1
From My Window
By Shirley Keller
WELL, CALL ME MOMMY
1 would suppose that every-
thing than can be written about
motherhood has been put on
paper at one time or another
—but when fou are involved
personally in the miracle of
giving birth, you begin to feel
as though it has happened but
once and never will come to
pass again.
Mothers notoriously delight
in endless prattle about preg-
nancy, delivery and the little
bundle of joy they produce.
Take any gathering of young
mothers, drop the key word
"baby" and lengthy detailed
orations about everything from
toxenmiato hospital menus will
ensue.
I have not intention of bor-
ing you with a descriptive ac-
count of the past few months—
nor will I risk nauseating you
with glowing reports of the
physical fitness and mental ap-
titude of our new son. It is
enough that you know he is
hale, hearty and harassing.
What has amazed me about
the entire episode is the man-
ner in which a few relatives and
friends have received the news
of our blessed event.
In shocked, open-mouthed
surprise, these startled souls
have gazed with wonder at our
bouncing boy and exclaimed,
"Why didn't you tell me you
were expecting?"
Queries like these leave me
wondering whether they might
have prevented the mishap had
they known.
1
In any case, what is happen-
ing to the tune -honored system
of over -the -back -fence commun-
ication—or in plainer English,
gossip?
Time was when absence from
ehurch on a single Sunday
morning was enough to set the
ladies of the congregation to
mentally noting dates.
Usually, the initial visit to
the doctor was sufficient ,cause
for interested folk to cast
-ap;, iatnanl to; sada vamp/6
velopments".
By the time your secret was
"out", everyone had known for
months of your impending con-
finement. Now their favorite
topic of conversation centred
around the time Bertha Big -
waist's arrival was five weeks
overdue.
Naturally, I .assumed that as
I lumbered through the final
weeks of waiting, all those who
knew me and a few who didn't
were as anxious as 1 for the
Big Day.
Seems 1 was wrong.
Could it be we are actually
growing so busy that we are
neglecting to pass on vital bits
of information?
Or is it simply that things
are happening so rapidly that
word-of-mouth broadcasting is
outdated.
Perhaps birth announcements
are old-fashioned and should
be replaced with pregnancy
proclamations well in •adance,
Then, truly we would be fully
automated.
TRAGEDY: PART ONE
We went through .a "beach
village" last week -end, on our
way to visit the grandparents.
You know the sort of place:
perhaps 83 year-round resi-
dents, and once the weather
warms, about 10,000 par -boiled
foreigners every week -end and
all through July and August.
I•t's not my cup of tea, but
such a resort has something.
There's a carnival excitement
for the teenager. And for fam-
ily groups and the middle-aged,
it means getting away from the
city, yet not having to cope with
the wild, frightening silence of
the real country.
Sun and sand and sky at these
places are magnificent. So are
some of the bronzed, bikini -clad
goddesses wriggling past the
penny arcades and shooting
galleries.
But it isn't these things that
give the beach village its atmos-
phere. No it's a compound of
other things that make them
fascinating.
There are the wonderful
smells: hamburgers f r y i n g;
stale beer; gasoline fumes; fish;
faulty septic tanks.
There are the fresh air
sounds: eight thousand gulls
fighting over garbage; the
squeal of tires and vroom of
exhausts as the punks scatter
kids like quail; the whine of
power boats beheading swim-
mers.
And of course there are the
sights. Here the pen falters,
Words alone cannot convey the
impression of that pink, pot-
bellied man in the purple sport
shirt, that lavish lady whose
slacks match exactly her orange
hair.
Nor do the beach villages
neglect the sense of touch.
There's the stove -hot, sticky
asphalt underfoot. There's the
cool thrill of bare feet on some
kid's dropped popsicle. There's
the satisfying crunch underfoot
of a half -eaten bag of potato
chips.
I'm not knocking these places.
They have their own charm,
like zoos. At any rate, there
we were, heading for this beach
voltage, which lies across our
route to Granny's. And sud-
denly they started to batter past
us, in pairs, to threes, in gag-
gles of five or six: the motor-
cycle gangs, There were at
least three different ones, with
such names as The Marauders t
across the backs of black Leath-
er jackets.
"Oops. Looks like a rough n
week -end at the beach," says I.
My family was enthralled, just
watching them fly by, black a
jackets, cowboy boots, dark
glasses,
We stopped in the village to a
buy something. The invasion 0
was on. They were everywher
The storekeeper groaned whe
I mentioned it, "I sure hop
they don't start nothin."
We got a closer look. M
wife was appalled. She'd neve
seen such a collection of fe
males in her life. Greasy hair
dirty .clothes and a built-in chi
on the shoulder. I guess it'
difficult to stay dainty on th
back of a motorbike, but the
did look like a jam of tart
from a Glasgow slum.
The men were equally inter
esting. You could tell them
from the girls because the
hadn't taken off their leathe
jackets to expose every inch o
legal flesh.
They were obviously into the
beer already, but they weren't
having any fun. They weren`
relaxed; they were tense. They
didn't walk; they_ swaggered
They didn't laugh, they sneered
Big, burly brutes, dirty, long
haired. 1 must admit they gave
me a small, cold chill down the
back.
Nothing happened. We
weren't beaten up or insulted
We drove off, glad we weren't
staying there. Next day, I
heard there'd been quite a rum-
ble at that village.
On the way home, over the
same route, we were wondering
whether they had left, There
didn't seem to be any sign of
them. Then we turned a corner
There was a big crowd in the
middle of the road. A police-
man waved us by. On the pave-
ment were two bodies, covered
with blankets. But you could
see the cowboy boots sticking
out. A greasy -haired girl
crouched, stroking the face of
one of the young men Iying
there,
I don't know whether they
were 'dead. I don't think so, be-
cause nobody seemed hysterical,
and the cops were calm, even
indifferent.
It was rather like watching
the last scene of a tragedy,
when you'd seen only Act I and
then had to leave,
0-- --
St. Paul's W.A.
St. Paul's W.A., Hensel', held
-their monthly meeting at the
home of Mrs. Richard Taylor
on June 15. After opening de-
votions and scriptures read by
Mrs. Frank Forrest, Mrs. Tom
Lanventler presented a very in-
eresting report on Captain
Wallace Corrie, of Hamilton,
who is their new prayer part-
er. Captain Corrie does in-
valuabie work amongst drug
addicts, alcoholics, homsexuals
rid juvenile delinquents.
It was decided to have a
white elephant sale as well as
work table at the bake sale
n October 22.
BUILDING NEW SILOS—Cook Bros. Milling Co. Ltd.,
at HensaIl, are busy erecting another couple of new silos
for storage facilities. Located on the east side of the -street,
the silos are now almost complete, and in this photo work-
men are busy putting the finishing touches to the project.
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