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The Brussels Post, 1978-02-01, Page 101977 VOLARE 4 door Sedan 6 cylinder Automatic,Power Steering, Low Mileage. 1977 CHRYSLER NEWYORKER 4 ' door Hardtop, Brougham Loaded. 1976 CHRYSLER NEWPORT 2 door Hardtop Fully Equipped. 1976 DODGE CHARGER .S.E. 2 door Hardtop 1.975 PLYMOUTH FURY SPORT 2 door Hardtop 1975 PLYMOUTH' FURY SALON 4 Door Sedan 1975 CHEVROLET BISCAYNE 4 Door Sedan 1975 OLDSMOBILE CUTLASS 2 Door Coupe 1975 DODGE MONACO 4 Door Sedan 1974 PONTIAC LAURENTIAN 4 Door Sedan 2 - 1974 FORD TORINO 2 Door Hardtop 1974 D-ATSUN B210 1973OLDSMOBILE OMEGA 2Door' Sedan 6 Cylinder Automatic. 1973 PLYMOUTH FURY 2 Door Hardtop 1972 PLYMOUTH FURY 2 Door Hardtop 1972 DODGE MONACO 2 Door Hardtop 44* C RAWFORD tal MOTORS WINGHAM ,ONTARIO 357-3862 OPP at Wingham Detachment, conducted twenty three investigations during the past week, One charge was laid under the Highway Traffic Act and Thirteen warnings were issued. One charge was laid under the Liquor Licence Act. During the week, there were six motor vehicle collisions which caused an estimated $3710.00 in property damage. No injuries were reported as a result of these accidents. There were two motorized snow vehicle accidents. On January 23, Michael W. Chapman was driving a Yamaha on private property in Bluevale when he struck a post. He received minor injuries as a result. On Saturday, January 28 John C. Hoonaard of RR#3 Walton was southbound on Sideroad 5-6, Morris Township when his Polaris struck a snowbank. He received minor injuries as a result. 01111111ftwift„ Home Hardware PROTECT YOUR FAMILY with Early Warning SMOKE SIGNAL DETECTOR s-29.95 Battery Operated Loud Early Warning Around-The -Clock Protection • collSins Brussels Where Personal Service is still important Open every Friday 'til 9 for your convenience 2nd ANNIVERSARY SALE 20%Off ALL MERCHANDISE IN STOCK For 'The Month of February 10---THE ,BRUSSELS POST, FEBRUARY 1, 1978 OPP Report Sugar and Spice by Bill Smiley Winter blues W.O.Mitchell, well-known and respected Canadian writer came out with something on a national TV interview with which I wholeheartedly concur. He suggested, more or less, that everything that is wrong'With the Canadian 'character can be blamed on our Canadian winters. After a couple of months of winter, we feel harassed, . persecuted, and vaguely wronged. We Become insular, grumpy, gloomy and generally unfit, to live with. When it has snowed and blowed for a couple- of weeks on end, or a couple of months on end, as it has around our place, you are ready to kick the cat, complain ,about the cooking, snarl at your children, or quietly climb into the bathtub and open your wrists. I' haven't any figures, but I'll bet our suicide rate soars after the holiday 'season, 'when we face three months of being cold and being broke. (I wouldn't insult anybody by making this bet in Canadian dollars. M ake it yen or marks or francs.) I would like to expand on this and make the bet on divorces and deaths. People get to the point, about the end of January, where they can't stand themselves, let alone thier spouses; so they split up. Old people and sick people, huddled at home or in hospital, get so sick of living that they just up and die. you will retort that a lot of affairs begin in - mid-winter. This is true. But it's not love. Most of them are among the apres-ski crowd, and it's sex or a desperate measure to keep warm. I can't imagine anyone falling in love while whizzing through farmers' fences on a snowmobile or shoving a car out of a snow-bank. What I can imagine is a sober, decent citizen, perhaps a kindly• ,retired clergyman, committing murder with a Shovel after the town plow has refilled his. driveway for the fourth time in 24 hours. can comtemplate, with some sympathy, the ordinarily happy housewife and loving mother' being hauled into court for child -batterindjust after her kids, with friends, have tropped in with half a ton of snow and slush on their boots and' marched across the kitchen flOor she has scrubbed three days in a row. . You may think I exaggerate. I do not. I, one of the mildest, sweetest chaps you'd ever encourter, have seriously considered mayhem when some turkey with bald tires starts up, an icy hill ahead of me, skids sideways across the road and leaves me there with my wheels spinning and smoke coming out my ears. I'm not against winte in principle. I'ni just against winter in Canada. They can have all the winter they like in principle. Nor am I unaware that there is a tiny, benighted portion of our populace that thoroughly enjoys winter. Children on the whole, love it. Instead of going through red lights on their bicycles and being killed by' cars, they can dart out from between two snow banks into the path of a car that is sashaying along on glare ice. Teenagers, another notoriously unstable group, also seem to like winter. Instead of breaking their legs riding motorbikes, or their necks in speedboats, they can break their legs 'riding snowmobiles and their necks on a ski hill. At any given time in any given winter, half a dozen ski bums are clumping around in the average high school with casts on their legs. Curlers, too, don't seem to mind the winter. They drive in a heated car to a heated and 'often luxurious curling club, where they can run up and down the ice for two hours in their beautiful tight pants, and then sit around drinking and 'discussing every rock thrown ad nauseam. The only thing more boring is a golf foursome going over every shot in the bar. But at least they have the sense to do it in summer. One other segment that professes to love winter is the swinging singles. Every weekend they pile out of the city in their thousands, heading 'for the ski hills. And the chalets. And the big thinking sessions. .And the chance of meeting Mr. Big or Ms. Boobs. And on Sunday night, after spending perhaps two hours skiing, often none, they pile back in their fast cars and head for home, a menace to everything on • the road. They're in the same category as the same singles ,who do the same !thing in summer, except that the ski mob, the city slickers, don't know how to drive in snow. But ask anybody sensible .if he loves winter. Ask a hydro lineman. Ask a snowplow operator who has to work a double' shift. Ask a. cop. It's not necessary, I believe, to ask a guy who has a fuel oil franchise. Aside from the sights of winter — red, runny noses, slush and salt all over your front lawn, 800 pounds of icicles from your eaves — there are the sounds.' Hacking coughs on every side. The clunk and rattle and slam of the snow-plow under your window at 4 a.ni. The sweet howl of the wind about your windows. The crash of 'falling ice. The thump and gulp of the furnace sucking its life blood. M y solution? Either give it back to the Indians, poor devils, or send everybody over 40 south for six months, and let the other Idiots revel in it. And pay the bills.