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The Citizen, 1999-09-08, Page 5THE CITIZEN, WEDNESDAY, SEPTEMBER 8, 1999. PAGE 5. Arthur Black Black, white and re(a)d all over When h? were children, words were coloured. Harlot' and 'murder' were dark purple. - Louis Macniece I remember when I first realized that I was a slave to colour. It was 1989 and I was buying a car. I'd never bought a new car before. The salesman was telling me about all the colour choices I had. There were, I believe, four that year. My finger stabbed the photograph of the car with the ice-blue finish. “That one!” I yelped. “Nobody else has a car that colour.” Which was true - prior to 1989. But that year, 14 trillion and six shmoes just like me bought cars with the ice-blue paint job. Today, there are so many cars that look like mine the paint job amounts to perfect camouflage. I have to tie a pink ribbon to the aerial so I can find my heap in a parking lot. My question is: who decides? What shadowy board of governors declared that 1989 would be the Year of the Ice Blue Car Finish? Who. for that matter, decreed that every kitchen range and refrigerator manufactured in the 60s would be harvest gold, or that pukey avocado'? It turns out there’s an American group that’s primarily responsible for calling the colour shots as we know them. Each year, the Color Marketing Group of America convenes and decides which colours are In and which colours are destined for the slag heap of fashion history. You may not be aware of it. but you’ve just lived through the Green Era. The colour green was extremely big in 1998, but right now it’s as dead as Preston Manning's plans to install a five-pin bowling alley in the basement of 24 Sussex Dr. The new ho‘t colour is-blue. Why, you ask? Because the Color Marketing Group of America s^ys so, that’s why. But they’re only giving blue a short ride ,n the driver’s seat - the rest of this year, at most. The new colour for the millennium is - are you sure you’re ready for this? Orange. So who exactly decides all this? And why? Depends on whether you believe tails can wag dogs or not. The tint tycoons on the Color Marketing Board of America insist that they don’t make the calls. They just interpret trends. They claim it’s you and me who pick the hues. And we don’t do it because we’re fickle. We choose tints that “reflect the spirit” of the day. When times are tough, we lean towards darker, more conservative colours like navy, burgundy and hunter green. If we feel good about the future, we opt for flashy yellows and reds. Cool colours are, the prevailing wisdom has it, ‘intellectual’. Bright and flashy colours are strictly reserved for folks found treading water in the shallow end of the gene pool. It's a theory, I guess - but it’s one with which the Russians would undoubtedly disagree vehemently. The Russian language contains the word ‘krasnya’. Krasnya means ‘red’. It also means ‘beautiful’. On the other hand, the German philosopher Goethe wrote: “...savages, uncivilized nations, children have a great fondness for colours in their utmost brightness and especially for yellow-red.” Well, I dunno about the bright colour/savage nature correlation. I do know that another fairly famous chap once wrote about colours. He wrote: “I like bright colours. When I get to heaven I mean to spend my first million years in painting. I expect orange and vermilion will be the dullest colours on my palette.” The chap who wrote those words was hardly an uncivilized savage. He was Winston Churchill. And I like to think his musing goes some distance to explaining the spectacular sunsets we’ve been enjoying of late. International Scene About the match My first efforts to learn how to plow were not what might be called an overwhelming success. In fact, the word failure comes to mind much more easily. It was only when I learned to drive a tractor, which I did even before I got around to a car, that some remote semblance of order came into my efforts. But I left farm work without being known far and wide as a plowman of any great skills. I did, however, take with me a deep admiration of those whose plowing skills seemed effortless. This is why the International Plowing Matches, which are held in Ontario each year, are of more than a passing interest to me. I, as a neophyte, can see the masters at work carrying out their task with such skills that as a young farm worker, I could only dream about when learning just how hard farm work was. These plowing matches have been held every year since 19I3 which means they continue to be of great interest to farmers. In addition, farm machinery, as most other mechanical devices in our society, has improved greatly over those 86 years. Like many of our other long-standing institutions, these plowing matches have their origin in Europe where such events, which caused both great interest and rivalry among farmers, have been held ever since the 16th century. In England there was for a time even a religious festival associated with the matches. Plow Monday was the first Monday after Epiphany. Traditionally this was the first day of the farmer’s year, when the ground was deemed fit to be worked and it was thus understandable that deity would be invoked to By Raymond Canon bring about bountiful crops. For one reason or another this religious connotation had lost its importance by the 17th century only to be revived for a time in 1945, a gap of 300 years. Shortly after the end of the war in Europe the Bishop of Chichester was asked to bless the plow, “the sign of all our labour in the countryside.” Another aspect of the matches was introduced in the post-war period, that of having a truly international match. In 1947 the top Canadians went to Great Britain only to have the match cancelled due to miserable weather, which, the Brits claimed, had been brought by the Canadians. In I960 the Canadian champion, Bob Timbers, of Mount Albert, had a bit more success, going to Rome to compete. He left the bad weather at home and came in fourth. In 1968' the Canadian event had a truly international and widely known figure take part, that of Colonel Sanders, of KFC fame. He demonstrated that he was capable of more things than preparing secret recipes for chicken by agreeing to plow in a challenge match with the mascot of Wellington County. He won! There is no truth to the rumour that he had trouble getting to the field as the area chickens, recognizing him, went about picketing the match in protest. This year’s match, called the International Plowing Match and Farm Machinery Show, is to be held in Huron County on Sept. 21 - 25 outside the village of Dashwood, just west of Exeter. This will follow hard on the heels of another famous event, the Zurich Bean Festival which is traditionally held the previous month. The winners will, as usual, go on to plow against the champions of other countries. Letters A Final Thought Always give your best, never get discouraged, never be petty; always remember, others may hate you. Those who hate you don’t win unless you hate them. And then you destroy yourself. - Richard Milhous Nixon Letters to the editor are a forum for public opinion and comment. The views expressed do not necessarily reflect those of this publication. Writer’s poem questions whether price is right THE EDITOR, The Price is Right? The County came down like a wolf on the fold Of the seniors, the infirm, the mentally old. As if they were expendable, so it would seem If they did not comply with a rent raising scheme Brought on by the county’s amended Admin Where a $l property took a high spin. We can only surmise that it all will depend Whether cash or humanism wins in the end. Clare Vincent. Look for them With my work complete on Tuesday, I returned for the first time in several weeks to a silent, and relatively tidy home. It’s back to school this week for our young people, a return to schedule and routine, after summer hours crammed full of work and socializing. Young and lovely, they display a variety of countenances as they embark on the first day back. There are the little ones, cherubic faces showing wonder and not a little apprehension. There are tears, soon forgotten as a new experience begins to unfold, showing promise of adventure and fun. There are the worldly Grade Is, made confident by having one year behind them, but still innocent enough to be eager for the one stretching before them. While those in the middle -and senior elementary classes have realized it’s uncool to want to go back, youthful exuberance soon has them tearing down the pavement to rejoin their friends in the schoolyard. Secondary school students display a convivial reluctance, accepting the inevitable, through if asked preferring an alternative. Watching them, remembering, you realize they are all the same, yet all so very different. For some the years ahead are a challenge to be met with tenacity and competitiveness. For others they will be a trial. There are those who will choose a wrong path, who will lose their way. But more importantly, and often most forgotten are those who, no matter how slightly, will make a difference. It is an aspect often disregarded when considering our youth. And that is unfortunate. Recognition for positive action is particularly important to a generation often given short shrift. The Ontario Community Newspaper Association is now accepting nominations for the Junior Citizen of the Year Awards. Each year, recipients of this award, all between the ages of six to 18, proved that there is a wonderful resource in our communities — our youth. The program isn’t a competition, it is about recognition. Nominees are acknowledged with a certificate for community service, heroism, making contributions while dealing with limitations or for simply making life better for others. From the names submitted, up to 12 will be chosen to receive the award, presented by the province’s lieutenant governor. In my time with this newspaper, only two area young people have been nominated for this award. There are, I’m certain, dozens more in each community worthy of a nomination. Perhaps what we expect from ‘heroes’ has kept us from considering these kids so familiar to us, the ones we meet on the street, who mow our lawns, coach our teams as possible candidates. Perhaps the generation gap is too wide for us to see the ones who find a solution to their own problems or fundraise for a cause not necessarily important to an adult. These kids deserve some attention. It only takes a few minutes to pick up a form at our office and nominate someone. So, in the days ahead, as you see these young people heading to the bus or to school, ask yourself if any of them have done something for which they should be thanked. Then do it.