Times-Advocate, 1979-03-28, Page 4Times-Advocate, March 28, 1979
Join the fight
April is synonymous with new life
and hope as nature starts to unfold her
spring beauties and it is an atmosphere
that no doubt is conducive to the in
creasing awareness in the fight against
cancer.
Area residents have exceeded their
target for the past few years during the
April campaigns by the Canadian
Cancer Society, realizing more than
ever that their contributions are un
locking some of the mysteries of this
dread disease and bringing new life and
hope to their neighbors, friends and to
themselves.
While the achievements in research,
public education and service to
patients have been encouraging, the
long battle is far from over and we
can’t afford to rest on our laurels.
Canvassers will be calling on you in
the upcoming month to enlist your sup
port in that battle and we probably
need no more impetus to show
generosity than to consider the fact
that one in six Canadians will have
some form of cancer in his/her
lifetime.
Those odds aren’t very encouraging,
but they can become better with your
generous support.
It must be remembered that the
three main areas to which funds are
allotted— research, public education
and service to patients— are affected
by inflation as is everything else in
today’s marketplace.
The targets therefore have to be in
creased just to provide arsenal equal to
that of the past year. In short, your
donation should reflect that inflation.
It’s a*s simple as that!
Mainstream Canada
A Dicey Issue
“You’d best watch your step — we're keeping an eye on you!"
Two unwanted words
‘If only’ are two of the most used
words in the English language after
something unpleasant has happened.
They are usually coupled with some
action that should or should not have
been taken, such as “If only I’d had
that headlight fixed’’, “If only I’d slow
ed on the curve’’, or “If only I hadn’t
had that last drink’’.
The rather pathetic “if only’’ teaches
two things: most of us have 20-20 hind
sight vision, and most of us know how
to prevent an accident from happening.
We know what we should have done,
but we didn’t do it.
April is “Traffic Safety Month” in
Canada, and the Canada Safety Council
has chosen “Prevention is the Cure” as
the theme for the safety campaign.
Drivers can prevent accidents. They
can ensure their vehicles are in sound
condition. Those who use self-service
gas bars must also remember that a
greater onus is on the driver to watch
for things that might otherwise have
been spotted by an experienced person.
Drivers can learn accident avoidance
techniques by taking a Defensive Driv
ing Course in most major centres.
Bicyclists and parents of young
bicyclists can ensure that their
vehicles are in sound operating condi
tion. And everyone can be courteous to
other road users. That breeds a good
attitude.
Drive friendly...and don’t force
yourself to say “If only...”.
BATT’N AROUND
SYD FLETCHER
Perspectives
In Grade 81 went to a little
one-room schoolhouse with
only two other kids. In Grade
9 we moved to Flint,
Michigan, and a junior high
school of over two thousand
students. Emerson High
School was a little like
Carver High School on the
current program, the
White Shadow.
I was a white shadow with
red hair, a little squirt of a
kid in a school which was
predominantly Negro. Now
this was back in 1957-58, just
before the days of the peace
marches and the outcry
about bussing but there was
• still an undercurrent of
resentment between the
races. Being very much in
the minority I learned to
keep my mouth shut and to
use the term ‘coloured’
rather than Negro if I didn’t
want my face flattened.
It was a different sort of a
school system than the
Ontario set-up, with the
emphasis on sports and
usic rather than academic
learning. The classes were
huge. Being all of seventy-
five pounds and only twelve
years old, almost two years
younger than some the boys
in my physical education
class I was quickly
designated as ‘number boy’.
I had a sheet of paper with
numbers up to 150 on it.
When each boy came in to
class he hollered his number
out and I put one line through
’ it. After he took his shower at
the end of class I made an X
through his number.
Exciting, eh?
I like singing so one of my
classes was Boys Glee Club.
Honest! It was a full credit
toward my diploma. The old
girl in charge of it ruled with
an iron hand. She had to.
There were about a hundred
boys in the class and not all
of them were budding choir
members. However, she had
the ultimate weapon if you
acted up. She could refuse
you the washroom pass, a tin
square about six inches wide
which you had to carry to the
washroom between class
change time.
In civics class I learned to
vote using the overgrown
slot machines that are
necessary for the mammoth
slate of officers common in
American elections, learned
how much the president
makes and was very im
pressed until I found out that
only native-born Americans
could be president, and
learned how to play ‘dots’ for
hours at a time with a dark-
skinned boy who was equally
bored, equally quiet and
unnoticed in the back corner
of the room.
Then there was the band
class. I was in band No. 4
which was the ‘pits’, the
poorest of the poor players.
There I learned to duck.
Frequently, I was in
front row, ‘playing’
French horn. The conductor
had a ferocious temper and a
short fuse. When angry, he
would fire his baton at
someone in the back row.
Surprisingly enough, con
sidering our horrible
playing, we survived.
The most interesting thing
I remember about that year
was the big fight. At 3:30 one
day the grapevine, the
fastest form of com
munication known to man,
said there was to be a fight in
the vacant lot after school.
I got there just as the
crowd was accumulating.
Two black girls were going
at it, hammer and tongs.
Kicking, biting and scrat
ching. Being little I squir
med right up to the front of
the crowd, narrowly being
missed by a shoe, flying
around in an amazingly high
arc, amazing when you
consider that the foot was
still attached.
There were about three
hundred kids there. All
black. Except one little red-
haired ‘joe’ who was yelling
and screaming with the best
of them.
The cop cars never turned
their sirens on, just coasted
up with lights flashing.
Inside of thirty seconds the
place was deserted with kids
clearing a four foot fence
without even touching it.
All that was left on the lot
was four grinning cops and a
little red-haired kid who was
fervently wishing he wasn’t
so blame curious.
the
the
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every major lobbying group
from the powerful Business
Council on National Issues to
the Canadian Construction
Association.
“Every time protected big
business has a chance it sim
ply doesn’t compete with the
rest of the world,” he says.
“Northern Electric, for ex
ample,sells telephones cheap
er in the U.S. than it does in
Canada. How come?”
Bertrand also says the
multinationals are taking ad
vantage of their position by
squeezing small firms, driv
ing some of them out of
business.
He cites the petroleum
companies, concrete manu
facturers, the tire producers
and the steel and forestry in
dustries as sectors where big
firms are using unfair meth
ods to drive independent
distributors and processors
out of business.
“Some big companies that
both manufacture products
and compete with distribu
tors and processors at the re
tail and wholesale levels use
a double pricing system to
squeeze the competition,”
says Bertrand. “In some
cases, the big firms’ price
to the end user is less than
the wholesale price to the
independent distributor.”
Bertrand claims many
smaller companies are at
least as efficient — perhaps
more efficient - than their
multinational counterparts.
“Small firms are beating
the hell out of larger com
panies, particularly in areas
where innovation is impor
tant,” he says. “The small
and medium-sized business
sector is dynamite in the Ca
nadian economy.”
Bertrand’s solution to the
situation as it exists: “We
need a new competition bill,
and we need it now,” he says.
“The survival of our indepen
dent business community
hangs in the balance.”
By W. Roger Worth
Robert Bertrand is not
your average bureaucrat. Arm
ed with a sheaf of degrees
from some of the world’s
leading universities, Bertrand
is now slugging it out in the
trenches, attempting to pro
tect Canada’s independent
businesses from being squeez
ed by large multinational
companies.
Bertrand’s official title is
Director of Investigation and
Research,enforcing Canada’s
Combines Investigation Act,
but he’s also an advocate
of new legislation forcing
stronger competition, per
haps reducing consumer
prices.
What’s unusual is that
government bureaucrat Ber
trand has been allowed to be
so publicly outspoken in his
denunciation of big busi
ness, seemingly damning the
kingpins of Canadian com
merce every chance he gets.
“It’s a wonder Bertrand
still has a job,” says Toron
to businessman Gordon
Quinn. “He really hits big
Roger Worth is Director,
Public Affairs,
Canadian Federation of
Independent Business,
business where it hurts, charg
ing the multinationals are less
than competitive, in addition
to squeezing independent
companies.”
What so upsets Bertrand
is the successful 10-year bat
tle waged by major firms to
delay tough, new competi
tion legislation, bringing Ca
nadian law more into line
with standards in the U.S.
The multinationals, oq the
other hand, argue vehement
ly the changes would halt
needed integration of larger
firms, depriving them of the
economies of scale that allow
cheap production, both for
Canadian and international
markets.
Not so, says Bertrand, re
futing presentations made by
We'll see you in court
If you happen to see some chap walk
ing around town with the legendary
trench coat, sunglasses and wide
brimmed hat pulled down over his
forehead, we’ll give a clue as to his
identity. In fact, we’ll go one step
better and suggest the character
strongly resembles the picture
featured on the top of this column.
No, the writer hasn’t started to
moon-light as a private detective in
local divorce cases. Anyway, a fellow
would go broke in that business,
because all the evidence one needs can
be garnered around the coffee club or
bridge club meetings at no charge.
There are no secrets in small towns.
Actually, the disguise is being used in
an attempt to stay clear of the police.
Seems that everywhere yours truly
heads these days, some big burly chap
is standing there with a subpoena in
hand.
A couple of weeks ago, the gal in the
front nonchalantly walks into the
cluttered editor’s office (it’s the of
ficer that’s cluttered, not the editor)
and announces that some RCMP con
stable is at the front desk seeking a
meeting with the writer.
Immediately, visions of tax problems
arise, but we can’t understand how
they’ve found out we cheated when the
form hasn’t even been mailed yet.
Have the RCMP resorted to mental
telepathy as well as some of their other
wrong-doings?
Or perhaps they’ve finally cracked
that mysterious drug ring, whose
reputation spread throughout the
province last fall?
However, it is neither. The young
constable says he is merely visiting to
deliver a subpoena to the editor to
appear in Stratford court in April to
give evidence against a man charged
with publishing a deceptive advertise
ment in this newspaper.
★ ★ ★
press release and should have
suspected something was afoot as we
received a rather warm welcome for
what is a bit of nuisance for the busy
constabulary.
The first clue came when we were
handed a piece of white paper, despite
the fact the press release has been
typed on canary paper for. the past 15
years.
You guessed it...another subpoena.
This time we’re off to court in Exeter
some time in May to give evidence in a
charge against R. B. Cox et al. Cox and
yours truly have never met, and we
suspect that ‘al’ was just some passing
acquaintance at the local watering hole
whom we have long since forgotten.
* ★ ★
There is a strange difference
between the two documents, a fact that
the local boys in blue would not want us
to miss. The RCMP subpeona is for an
incident that happened on or about the
20th day of February in 1975.Theymay
get their man, but it takes them time.
On the other hand, the subpoena
issued from the London OPP was for
an offence that allegedly will take
place on or about the 24th day of May in
1979. Obviously, we think if the police
know it’s going to happen on May 24th
of this year, the police should be on
hand to ensure that it does not and
therefore preclude the necessity of the
writer being on hand to testify in court.
However, we are assured that the
subpoena was dated incorrectly in Lon
don and should have been 1978, and
while there is a suggestion they will
provide a new subpoena if we prefer,
the sage advice is that “you may as
well take it, Bill, because you’re going
to get it anyway”.
* **
Last Monday, we made our weekly
visit to the local OPP office to get the
While the writer is not against
appearing in court as a witness, the
two documents do point out one of the
great problem areas of the law and
that is the speed (ormorecorrectly, the
.......,Z • /K
lack of) with which the court system
works.
The RCMP constable knows nothing
about the charge regarding the
questionable advertisement. He is un
able to provide this star witness with
any suggestion of what information the
court may wish to have presented.
And, even if he did, indications are that,
we would be unable to produce it.
Records for a small classified adver
tisement placed in this newspaper over
four years ago are no longer in ex
istence.
Those records, which may have
proven of some value, were no doubt
available at one time, but the lengthy
delays in getting such cases into court
often result in lack of evidence created
by those delays.
The other incident regarding R. B.
Cox took place almost one year ago and
we suspect it had something to do with
the Fleck strike. In fact, one of the
local OPP thought that Cox was one of
the constables charged during one of
the altercations.
While the writer was on hand at a
couple of those altercations, they are
certainly not very vivid in our mind at
the present.
There’s probably some good reason
why those court cases involving
situations in the Huron Park strike are
just nowgettingtocourt, but there is lit
tle doubt that except for those directly
involved in some of the unpleasantries,
only a few lingering memories remain.
Witnesses are placed at a decided
disadvantage with the passing of time,
and while that may be the intent of
defence lawyers, it is not conducive to
fulfilling the purpose of court
appearances.
Not only that, but we fear it places
witnesses under a very severe strain as
they attempt to recollect events that
took place one year ago, to say nothing
of four years ago.
Welcomes advent of spring
Like most people in this country
with any intelligence, I welcome the
advent of spring, which in Canada con
sists mainly of mud, slush, cold rain
and colder winds.
It is the end of that suicidal season in
which we get more and more depress
ed, irritable, and bone-weary of living
in a land where the national sound sym
bols are the wet sniffle and the barking
cough, the national sight symbols are
the filled-in driveway and the rusting
fender.
It’s a trying time. For years, I’ve ad
vocated a mid-February holiday to
save the national psych from self
destruction. I’ve suggested calling it
National Love Day, the third Monday
in Feb.: a day to love your neighbour,
your neighbour’s wife, yourself, and
life, not necessarily in that order.
But I’ve been blocked, year after
year, by politicians, who fear the op
ponents might score a victory if it were
named Sir John A. MacDonald Day or
Sir Wilfred Laurier Day; and by the in
dustrialists and business community,
who blanch with terror at the thought
of paying their employees for one more
non-productive day in the year. Hell, a
third of their employees’ days are non
productive anyway. They may as well
throw in a bonus.
Yes, I welcome spring, but there’s
one aspect of it that I very nearly
loathe. That’s when the first yellow sun
begins to filter through those murky
storm windows, which we daren’t take
off until mid-May.
It isn’t the sun that bothers me. It’s
the Old Battleaxe. She throws away
her survival kit, the cataracts are peel
ed from her eyes, and she starts driv
ing me out of my skull.
“Bill Smiley, look at those drapes!”
I look. They look fine to me. Same old
ones we had in January. Green and
gold, turned to a sort of grold with
cigarette smoke and hot air from the
ancient furnace, but perfectly ser
viceable drapes.
“Look at that rug. Filthy! Look at
the chesterfield. The Boys have ruined
it: jam, bananas, yoghurt! Look at that
woodwork. It was off-white in the fall,
and now it’s off-black! The wall paper
is disgusting!”
Well, I look up from my paper with
every demand, and everything looks
just the same to me as it did a month
ago. Comfortable. Warm. Lived-in. I
venture such an opinion. It is met with
a torrent of abuse, self-pity, and
materialistic avariciousness.
“You don’t care, do you? You’d live
in a pig-pen, wouldn’t you? Other men
help their wives keep the place decent,
don’t they? Have you no eyes in your
head? Aren’t you ashamed of this
“wreck” room that used to be our
living-room?”
Faced with a barrage of rhetorical
questions, I shift uneasily and answer,
“Yes.” or, sometimes, “No.” I never
know what to say, but it’s always the
wrong thing,
Frankly, I don’t care. And yes, I
would live in a pig-pen, if nothing else
were available. And no, other men
don’t help their wives keep the place
decent. Not decent men. And yes, I
have eyes in my head, two of them, one
apt to be black after this column
appears. And no, I’m not ashamed of
our wreck room. I know who wrecked
it, and I love them just the same. And if
visitors don’t like it, they can go and
visit someone else, with a real rec’
room. It is confusing, is it not?
However, I am an amenable chap. I
don’t kick a dog, just because he bays
at the moon. I don’t kick a woman, just
because she begins raving when the
March sun filters into the dugout where
we’ve spent the winter.
I merely blink benignly, start talking
supportively. Yes, we should have new
drapes. How much? Yes, we should
have a new chesterfield suite. How
much? Yes, it’s time we got rid of that
old dining-room suite, which we bought
second-hand for $100, 20 years ago.How
much for a new one? Certainly, the
rugs need cleaning and the whole house
redecorating. How much?
It always comes out to somewhere
around $8,000.1 remind that we have to
borrow from the bank to pay the in
come tax. That we have two cars which
we could sell in a package deal, to an
experienced mechanic, for $400. That if
we don’t have some brickwork done,
the whole house will fall down, and
we’ll be sitting there, in full view, on
our new chesterfield.
I suggest that she save money from
teaching her piano pupils, pay back the
$1,000 she has spent on long-distance
phone calls to her relatives, and take a
job as a cleaning lady for a year and all
will be doozy. New everything.
She counters with arrows about the
55 Years Ago
Mr. Charles Salter was in
Guelph last week taking a
short course in cream
grading at the O.A.C.
Mr. & Mrs. Garnet
Passmore and family have
returned to their farm in
Usborne after spending the
winter in Detroit.
During the severe wind
storm from the east,
Saturday morning, the large
iron roof of the Central Hotel
was completely blown off
and deposited in the rear
yard.
George Beavers carried
off the majority of prizes in
the bird house competition
conducted by the Exeter
Horticultural Society. The
houses are on exhibition in
the show window of M.R.
Gardiner’s furniture store.
30 Years Ago
The RCAF celebrated
April 1 its silver jubilee. At
Centralia the occasion was
celebrated with an an
niversary dinner.
Jim Creech was named
manager of the Exeter
Baseball team at a meeting
in the town hall for which
President Bill Allison
presided.
Preceding his sermon at
James Street United Church
Sunday morning, Rev. H.J.
Snell had a special message
in welcoming into the
Dominion, Canada’s 10th
province, Newfoundland,
March 31.
Elgin McKinley, farmer of
Stanley township has been
selected to carry the
Progressive Conservative
banner for the riding of
Huron-Perth in the next
Federal election.
20 Years Ago
Dave Ducharme, 12A
student, won the right to
participate in Ontario public
speaking finals in Toronto by
taking top honours in a
contest at Listowel.
The Pinery Park at Grand
Bend, now in course of
construction, will be one of
the largest and one of the
finest in Ontario. It will
include 13 miles of roads in
its 4200 acres, and two new
bridges across the Ausable
River.
Led by team captain Larry
Heideman, Exeter Mohawks
sidelined Forest to enter the
WOAA “B” finals against
the Philipsburg Chevs.
Alison Clark, Centralia,
has been chosen to represent
SHDHS in the London Free
Press School Queen’s club.
An award-winning academic
student, she has also cap
tured honours in public and
verse speaking, drama,
citizenship, track and field
and team sports.
15 Years Ago
Saturday Lucan honoured
its favorite sportsman,
Harvey Langford, with a
special celebration that
reflected the community.
One of the many tributes was
made by Bill Smith, Legion
President, Bob Murray was
MC.
Executive of the Ausable
River Conservation
Authority spent most of
Tuesday afternoon
discussing details in regard
to the Parkhill Dam. Final
drawings for the million
dollar structure are ex
pected to be completed by
the end of April.
Mr. & Mrs. Charles Fisher,
Exeter, celebrated their 35th
wedding anniversary Friday
March 27 when a family
dinner was held at the home
of their daughter Mr. & Mrs.
Norman Fisher and Susan,
Dashwood.
booze bill, the cigarettes account, and all the money I gam
ble away on lotteries.
I remind her gently that if she hadn’t spent a cool thou
sand on gold chains last summer in Switzerland, we’d be in
clover. And so it goes.
After a week or two of this, we have arrived at an im
passe. The sun keeps shining, something important, like
the children, crops up, and we sail happily into a new year,
with the wreck room in tact: warm, comfortable, llved-in.
Doesn’t cost a nickel, And you know something? Nobody
cares.