HomeMy WebLinkAboutThe Huron Expositor, 1990-07-11, Page 2Huron
� xpositor
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11awnrsa a!OSINST, editor
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WEDNESDAY, JULY 11, 1990
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Mellen. Address - I.O. Sox N, Sttaforth. Ontario. NOK 1 WO
Not in our town
With everybody and their clog harping about abuse of the
environment and the greening of the planet, the media and
environmental lobby groups are starting to sound like broken
records. But some people, it seems, can't even be irritated into
action. They have to be hit over the head, with a very large piece
of garbage.
About a week ago, a Seaforth native - and not a child, who
might not have known better - finished off her soda pop while
sitting in her car on Main St., then reached out the drivers
window of the car, held the pop can out and dropped it right onto
the street. Clang. In broad daylight. The offending piece of trash
rolled about five feet down the street and came to rest beside the
curb, another glittering ornament to adorn our lovely town.
The disgusting thing was, a trash can was sitting six feet down
the sidewalk from her car. All that this lazy citizen had to do was
get out of her car, walk to the can and deposit her garbage.
Instead, she chose to throw her trash onto the street of her
town.
Again, this wasn't a kid who might not have known better. it was
a young woman who has probably heard more about Green this,
that and the other thing in school and in the media than anyone.
The planet is hers to inherit, and she's making a conscious
decision to foul it up. Huron County can't even figure out what to
do with the trash that makes it to the landfill site, but at least that
trash makes it that far. Her's stays on the street.
And you can't say that it's her business, because it isn't
anymore. It's everyone's business. It's our planet that thoughtless
people like this are messing up, not to mention our town.
P.E.
LETTERS TO THE EDITOR
Thanks to all for a grand
Tractor Elimination Draw
Dear Editor:
Now that the big "event" has
come and gone, we want to
congratulate the Seaforth Agricul-
tural Society and all its helpers for
a job well done, also
congratulations to all the winners.
We want to say thanks to the Ag.
Society for letting us take part in
their Tractor Elimination Draw, we
sure enjoyed it. Was very surprised
to see none of the Seaforth dig-
nitaries at the dinner, dance or
draw, but have learned since the
draw they never bought tickets to
support their own Agricultural
Society "how sad". Seen a handful
or so of store keepers there, which
was very nice, at least some people
are concerned about the future of
their town - thanks folks. The very
long hours, many meetings and
hard work the Ag. Society put into
this day and evening of success
deserves a "loud applause and stan-
ding ovation". We have talked to a
lot of people since the draw who
Turn to page 16A •
RURAL ROOTS
by Jeanne Kirkby
i
Mulling over the
Farm Tax Rebate
This is the idea. When land is taxed for seJvices to people that live on
that land - specifically education tax - the system is unfair to farmers
who do not have people living on land acreage where they earn their
living with crops and livestock.
The Farm Tax Rebate Program or FTRP is the instrument that
government has used in the past to rectify this unfairness.
In 1970, Agriculture Minister William Stewart introduced a farm tax
rebate of 25% by Order -in -Council to return the education tax unfairly
charged to the agricultural land where there were no people living to be
educated. Because this was to be an interim measure pending a reform
of the whole property tax system, it wasn't put into legislature, but had
to be renewed each year by Order -in -Council.
In 1986, the rebate on agricultural land and buildings was increased
to 60%, and in 1987, it was further raised to 100%. In 1989, with no
consultation whatsoever of the farming community, the farm tax rebate
was put on the basis of a subsidy, with a "means" or income test
deciding who would qualify. In its infinite wisdom, the government
decided that anyone who earned over $40,000 in off -farm income didn't
deserve what was then regarded as income support.
Naturally representatives of the farm community were quite upset. Our
MPPs told us that this change was a good thing. "Look at all the rich
doctors and lawyers who own farmland", they said. "Surely you don't
want to see them profiting at your expense".
I checked the labelled Township maps in my 1984 Huron County
Atlas. In the Townships that I'm familiar with, I didn't find hardly any
rich doctors and lawyers. But 1 found quite a few names of my friends
and neighbours that hold off -farm jobs to be able to afford to farm. And
i asked myself if it was worth penalizing these striving farmers; worth
increasing the cost of rented land to all farmers; worth taking all that
money away from the agricultural community just to spite Some rich so-
and-so that probably does own some land somewhere and rents it out
to Ontario farmers instead of building highrise apartments on it.
But, whoa! Judging one's neighbours is an old trap. "Divide and
conquer", or as the current government said in their Meech Lake thing,
"Fragmcntalize the opposition". If we all get busy looking around us
and assessing who's making too much money, we lose sight of the fact
that this is not an income subsidy; it is the rebate of a tax unfairly
assessed to the farm community.
Turn to page 1$A •
Sunday shoppers: Get a life
1'ta not pig M shop oa a S.ro-
day. 1 don't now and 1 don't plan to
start.
When 1 go to the Untied Stairs
dtm't shop oil Sundays evai though
almost evecythios is open. 1 think
it's a sad statement on a 'ss
life when they situp on Sundays
instead of with with their familia;
or ' ,off outside. in this
time t gross ovaronsumption 1
feel revolted by people who want to
consume more or can't schedule
their time better.
Now that Canada's hitched iu
wagon to the United Stakes 1 guesses
a follows that we will adopt the
same social rules as them, and in a
country where capitalism is at its
most brutal, money for rich people
will always coats fira. I don't think
the wife of the big Sears boss
spends her Sundays working in the
cltiiiw.'s cioduag deparunau of its
Chicago More. Average Americans
don't even get Busing Day off. In
the United Stec lift is work, wort,
wont for tat bill! guy (who usually
is overweight).
The best I can do is boycott
soros that do opal on Sundays. 1
can refuse to spend my money at
those sires everyday of tate weeL
Some people say that Sunday shop-
ping will arcate jobs, but 1 feel
nobody should be awarded for
creating a low-paying job with no
benefits.
Quebec looks like the nicest place
to live in Canada now. As the drift
closer and closer to ties with they
I feel happy for than and so angry
for me in Ontario. France is cur-
rently wrestling with Sunday shop-
ping and the good side is winning.
People just don't shop on Sundays.
JUST THINKING
by Suave Oxford
Prance has two !tour lunches and
Brost people go home to that
family and have a docent meal and
rest together. Some greedy stoics
are staying open during the lunch
hour, but chair effort is in vain.
Everybody in France (and most of
Europe) gets Summar holidays of
four to ser weeks. Somehow this
worts out with their economy and
it's no problem. Families travel the
countryside together and learn more
about themselves and their country.
Here in North America couples
often don't have holidays during the
same time. No wonder every sum-
mer so many school children echo
the save thuyl across North
Armerica..."1'm bored."
The French fight hard for the
n hes they have gained. We don't.
Mmt Canadians aren't even aware
of what rights people in other
countries have. What Europeans
have u a birthright for summer
holidays Canadians don't get unless
they're politicians, teachers or been
working for the same company for
years and years. I think it's insane
that here a ;win gets to spend five
weeks at home at a time when his
family is grown up and left or has
become alienated from the tired
working man in the house.
Ile
#A\E 4T1ON 'UNDAY SHOPPERS !--
ATTEJ'JT$Or'J
%uNOA"( (HOPPERS I
,,,...� OUR SPEc1AL TODAY IS
GE4/.0/S 2, ✓Efi,Egs 1 To 3
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kllfotillocE is ell nntiirtlt3tirli'IEIf
Learning how not to grow up
Every year, right about this time,
I get struck with this odd lunacy
that makes me want to sell
everything that I own, pack four or
five changes of clothes, a bathing
suit and a toothbrush into a duffle
bag, and run away to camp again.
But not as a camper. If I never go
on another forced nature hike
through a dusty field again for the
rest of my life, I'll be a very con-
tented person. And I never did
figure out how to tie a sheep -shank,
or what purpose a sheep -shank
would ever serve on this earth. No,
never again as a camper. As a
counsellor.
Blessed are the counsellors, for
they shall remain in a state of ar-
rested childhood for the rest of their
days.
I was out getting walked by my
dog the other night, watching the
Eggo-wafflelike moon rise and
testing my patchy knowledge of
astronomy against the night sky
starblanket - Orion the Hunter and
the Big Dipper is about as far as
my expertise stretches - when it hit
me. I should be at camp. If I con-
centrated, I could hear the waves of
Lake Couchiching lick the
shoreline, and smell woodsy smells
and cigarette smoke, and see the
headlight beams wag fitfully in the
dark on their way to the dining hall.
At 11 p.m., all of the campers
would at least be trapped in their
cabins - sleep was nowhere near,yet
- and it would be time to wander
down to the hall or the lake shore
for some coffee and philosophical
conversation before the midnight
curfew. Seven a.m. and flagpole
would come early..
But I'm getting way ahead of
myself. Let me paint a picture for
you.
The summer after my first year at
university, I landed a summer job at
a camp near Orillia. It seemed too
good to be true: from May 4 until
September 2, room and board, a not
bad salary, and amenities at this
camp the likes of which I'd never
seen. A completely equipped
musical theatre, water-skiing,
sailing, computers, a robotics
program, coppercraft, advanced
photography, windsurfing, hor-
seback riding...It was more like a
resort than a camp, and I couldn't
wait. I mean, how much like work
could this be?
And how could they call this
place a camp?
Up until that summer of
weirdness, my idea of camp was
pretty pristine and simplistic. Tents,
cooking on a campfire, and no
article of clothing any paler than a
dirty beige packed in your duffle. If
ROUGH NOTES
by Paula Elliott
J
there was anything lighter packed, it
probably meant that Mom never
wanted to see that particular piece
of clothing again.
So naturally, it was a bit of a
shock when I was faced with a
cabin of 14 -year-old girls who blew
every fuse daily with their
blow -dryers and who wouldn't go
to Flagpole at seven in the morning
until their earrings matched their
socks and their hair was sprayed
into position
No kidding.
In four short months, I had my
whole concept of camp and fun
blown completely put of the water
by 500 or so jaded, obscenely rich
kids who were bored by the age of
12, worldly at 13, and tired and
scornful by the ripe old age of 14.
And the more that I saw and
experienced, the more I realized
that my safest policy in life was to
stay a kid as long as possible.
In my first couple of months at
the camp, myself and 14 other
hardy souls who were ever after
referred to as the "maintenance
crew" also played counsellor/fun
director/mentor to groups of Grade
8'ers from inner city Toronto. At
the camp for a week at a time, the
kids rolled onto the property in
banana buses, all streetwise and
wise -cracking, determined not to be
entertained or befriended by a
bunch of goofs running around in
checked hunter's jackets and goofy
hats.
Watching them turn into kids
again over five days was the most
beautiful thing I've ever seen in my
life.
And every once in a while, just
when I'm in danger of turning into
an adult, I'll see something like
Monday night's starry sky or full
moon and imagine that I'm back at
camp again, in a state of arrested
childhood, a bigger kid than half of
the kids there.
As long as I can still do that, all
the car payments and deadlines in
the world can't touch me.
20 teams plow under 25 Tuckersmith acres
JULY 11, 1890
Mr. George McIntosh of McKil-
lop had the misfortune to lose a
valuable mare and colt the other
day, the mare having been so badly
lacerated by ravenous hogs that she
had to be shot.
Mr. S. Cluff, who recently
chased and moved to the Kyle farm
on the sixth Concession, Tuck-
ersmith, had a plowing bee on
Thursday of last week. There were
20 teams at work, and they plowed
25 acres of summer fallow. This
will give Mr. Cluflf a good start
with his summer's work.
The foundation of the new flax
mill in Seaforth is now complete
and the brick work is being com-
menced. The building is to be 40 by
60 feet, two storeys high, with an
engine house 24 feet square.
We understand that Mr. Peter
Klinkhammer has sold out his but-
ter tub business to Mr. S. Trott, of
this town, but that he will himself
still continue the manufacture of
barrels. The apple business
promises to be very brisk this fall,
and we are glad stn know that Mr.
Klinkharnmer is prep•ral for all
emergencies.
A horse tied
t Ise
etc
Messrs.
White and May's store, St. Mary's,
devoured a number of straw hats
which were on exhibition outside
the door.
JULY 9, 1915
There were forty automobiles
standing at the driving park in
Seaforth at one time on Friday
afternoon. That represents a lot of
money and does not seem to in-
dicate hard times.
The annual picnic of Turner's
Church and the London League
Road, Tuckersmith was held this
Thursday in Townsend's Grove.
The result was in every way suc-
cessful and satisfactory. The day
was fine and about 300 people
turned up.
While Mr. Percy Monk of Tuck-
ersmith was driving into town from
the North on Wednesday, his horse
became frightened at a motorcycle
and, jumping into the ditch, it col-
lided with a telegraph pole with
such force as to break its neck.
Mr. and Mrs. James Sutherland of
Honolulu were here last week
visiting Mr. Sutherland's brother,
Mr. Alex Sutherland of John Street.
It is forty years since the brothers
last met.
IN THE YEARS AGONE
from the Expositor Archives
JULY 12, 1940
Stamp Out Hitler! This is the
slogan adopted by the Regent
Theatre here in Seaforth in co-
operation with Canada's Motion
Picture Industry in its nation-wide
campaign to stimulate the sale of
War Savings Stamps and Cer-
tificates. U11 Monday, July 15 the
theatre .0 have as their guests
every person who has purchased at
least two 25 cent war saving stamps
at the box office at a special gala
Patriotic Performance. In addition
to a splendid picture, Mr. Suther-
land of Regent Theatre has arranged
a program of local talent
Fire destmyetl alt; cheese factory
in Silvers Corners, Huron County,
near Brussels. The origin of the fire
has not been determined but it is
supposed to have been the result of
defective wiring. A house near the
factory had its windows broken
with the heat of the fire, but the
t• '
1-41 t L L t+t. .
acting as a bucket brigade.
Women's Auxiliary Motor Ser-
vice classes, in which women are \
given free instruction in the
operation and care of motor cars
and trucks, are being organized in
town. The idea behind the courses
is to give women the chance to
learn how to drive and maintain
ambulance and trucks, in case their
services might be needed, explained
J.F. Daly, the agent here who is
sponsoring the classes.
JULY 15, 1965
The busiest place in the Seaforth
area these days is the I ,inns Park
and Pool. Every morning more than
300 district children, including 90
from Brussels, are on hand for
swimming lessons. There is no
charge for lessons, the cost of
instruction being absorbed by the
Lions Club as part of the Park
program.
Turn to ._ e ISA •
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