The Goderich Signal-Star, 1983-05-11, Page 4I+r
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Have you ever had an uncontrollable urge
to be an entreprenneur, a free -spirited
thinker, an inventor?
The Majority of the population relies on a
smaller minority to salve its problems, to do,
its thinking, to take the risks and chainces, to
invent the products that rescue us from such
social disgraces as terminalacne.
If anyone could invent a cure for the
common cold he would, undoubtedly. be set
up, monetarily, for life. We're concerned
about things like that and for what reasons,
Pm still not quite sure.
Most people would engage in idle and
romantic dreams about discovering a cure
for the common cold for two main reasons.
Admittedly, I would crave the attention that
such a revelation would attract and the
accompanying revenue would help make
my miserable life somewhat more bearable.
Not that my present existence is at the
;int of being unbearable, blit, the Prospect It ig.. the willingness. or ability to project
of coming into large s,of money titera#ly
egnsumes some eopleasi lives,
- 1 have often admired the tenacit . end gall
lit
inventors. There are nrttils of product.
available on the consumer Mal" nkat that are
not exactly of the necessity variety. Still, ,
people make money.with the craziest ideas,
Consumers simply have .to be eonvineed
that they need a product., The product may
not be the least bit functional, but it will sell
if. the consuming public is • convinced they
need it.
I have marvelled at the inventor of pet
rocks. This obviously insane individual •
appealed to millions, of crazies with a cone
cep, that`was totally ludicrous.
There is life beyond pet rocks, but the idea
was so inane that it made'a rich man out of
its inventor. Why.didii't I invent the Pet rock
or hula hoop; thermal underwear or even
odour eaters?
one's mind into such abject dimensions that
produces respite. How does someone came
. to terms withthe concept of a pet rock?
No doubt, millions of people have enjoyed.
playing ,mind or memory gga,mes for hours on
end, without ever conceiving a structured
Course for such games. ° Then some en-
terprrsing gentlemen ` developed Trivial
Pursuit, the hottest thing since Monopoly,
and they now apend; much of their leisure
time counting money, .
Why is it that humans have a need or
desire to test their Memories? Why is there.
such a sense of accomplishment when one
proves that his memory can retain certain
senseless and useless information.
The human is a strange animal.
But ideas, both sane and insane are often
rejected by many people before someone
has the guts and tenacity to follow through
9
with an ldea�,'
Ford Motor Company officials toured the
Volowagen :factory.- In Germany in 1948 and
suggested, the car wasn't worth a damn.
Another manufacturing executive
suggested the Volkswagen didn't even meet
the fundamental requirements of a car-
Of
arOf course, the Volkswagen is still a.top-
selling automobile around the world which
only serves to prove that people make
mistakes. There is the story of a gentleman
who, sold his interests int he Coea-Cola
Company because he didn't like the name.
He spent his money on the Raspberry Cola
Company.
The same scenario is documented through
history as inventors must face repeated
rejection before ideas take hold.
Historically, the wait has often been worth
the trouble.
Now, I've got this ideafor electric un-
derwear, and chocolate bologna....
BLUE
RIBBON
AWARD
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Update equipment
Two boaters waited helplessly for over eight hours as
the fickle waters of Lake Huron tossed their boat around
off the shore. of Port Franks Saturday,.
The Canadian Coast Guard stationed in Goderich is
responsible for the eastern shoreline of Lake Huron,
covering an • area from Sarnia to Tobermory. On
Saturday, Coast Guard officials ,ere 4ttq melte,,anx.,
' emergency call for assistance. ,
Fortunately for the boaters, those same fickle waters
tossed their boat to shore north of Grand Bend, Hours after
their engine failed. Rescue efforts by both Canadian and
American authorities proved futile on the unruly waters.
Coast Guard captain K Roberts grudgingly conceded
that the Canadian Coast Guard vessel now in Goderich
Harbor is not suited for the search and rescue missions it
is called upon to perform. The Coast Guard cutter 120 is
ideally, a patrolling' vessel more suited for the sheltered
waters . of inland. lakes and rivers and was originally
designed for RCMp suveillance work.
In short, the shoreline of Lake Huron is being protected
by a vessel which is woefully inadequate. Indeed, it is
difficult to speculate on the weather conditions, but it is
not uncommon to experience major storms through the
spring season. The months of October and November can
be extremely unpredictable, weather-wise.
The regular Coast Guard Cutter 126 is undergoing minor
modifications and therefore is unavailable for duty. In its
place, the Coast Guard is forced to contend with a
humiliating situation -a vessel tf at is totally useless in
adverse conditions. L ^
As long as people own boats there will be a certain
segment of that boating population that defies all odds and
conditions in. pursuit of sport or leisure. It doesn't make
sense, nor is it logical, that anyone would brave strong
winds and thigh waves, conditions ,tb wore: vatlect o>r Ix
weekend. '
The point remains that two'boaters did tackle the ad-
verse conditions and required help when their engine quit.
The fact that the Coast Guard was well within reach but
unable to do anything about the situation, is shameful.
No doubt, Captain Roberts felt hopelessly humiliated by
the experience.
But the captain will have to put up with that situation,
knowing the rescue vessel he pilots is inadequate under
certain conditions, for an indefinite period of time until
• the CG126 is repaired and returned to Goderich for active
duty.
For the two boaters stranded off Port Franks, the
weekend could have ended in tragedy. And that tragedy•
would have raised some serious and pointed questions
about the inadequacy of the coast guard vessel stationed
here.
Admittedly, Captain Roberts must work with the
equipment made available to him and the members of his
crew.
Maybe it's time to update that equipment and ensure
that lives will not be in jeopardy. Why wait for tragedy to
strike. D.S.
Fiiror unwarranted
There has been a great furor of late over the con-
troversial budget leaks at both the federal and provincial
level. -
Finance Minister Marc Lalonde's leak a few weeks ago
was a humiliating mistake, one that happened innocently
enough while he toyed with'the press during a pre -budget
address. The joke, however, turned- against the finance
minister as television reporters, using a zoom lens,
focused in on budget material that was released to the
public.
The editors ruled that the material was in the public
domain and that they (the editors) had right to divulge
the information in the public interest.
Last week Ontario treasurer Prank Miller, despite
elaborate precautions, had portions of his budget pieced
together from the trash of the private printing company
that was granted the contract to print the final public
version of the 1983 budget. • • '
In both cases, both,men were under pressure to resign.
Neither man succumbed to that pressure and rightly so.
.The finance minister and treasurer, both honorable
men, are entirely responsible for the budgets but they
cannot be responsible for the irresponsible actions of the
press.
The Globe and Mail more or less apologized for its
action by claiming Miller should not be forced to resign.
Lalonde admitted to an unfortunate mistake which cost
the public about $200 million in budget changes.
Regardless, the concern over leaks in both cases was
unwarranted.
A sure si
of spring
DEAR READERS
SHIRLEY KELLER
When 1 was a child, spring was traditionally
the season for music festivals. Raised in Huron
County, 1 was one of the fortunate children of the
1940s who was often chosen to take part in the
music festival at North Street United Church
here in Goderich.
Does anyone else remember those marvellous
music festivals?
For me, a student at SS No.11 in Stephen.
Township, a day totravel with my teacher all the
way to Goderich was something truly exciting.
Usually I had enough money to have a lunch on
the town - maybe at Andrews' Dairy or
Blackstone's. What a treat.
Sometimes we brought a lunch with us and ate
at Harbour Park. The weather•always seemed to
be perfect - warm and sunny. A truly old-
fashioned spring day.
I was a soloist, believe it or not. Occasionally I
sang in a trio or a duet, but usually I was entered
lin the solo class for girls my age. It always in-
volved many long hours of practice ahead of
time and billions of stomach butterflies for at
least 24 hours ahead of the contest. -
But oh how I loved it. Even at 10 years of age, it
was an exceptional delight for me to sit in the
church auditorium and listen to dozens of
competitors strut their stuff. It didn't matter to
me that they`sang the same song over and over.
Every one seemed different and new.
The adjudicator for those festivals was usually
G. Roy Fenwick. He was a. spritely white headed
gentleman who was obviously enchanted by
children and music. He was so kind to everyone,
and he always had something to say that made
us laugh. And yet we learned from him - in a
magical, easy way.
A week or so ago, I relived some of that en-
joyment when I attended the violin competitions
at the Kiwanis Music Festival in Stratford. I had
only a morning to spend - but what a spectacular
way to begin a day.
I was particularly interested in : the per-
formances of a young friend of mine from the "-
area, but there were plenty of other talented
musicians to hear and see. Such music!
When I walked into St. Andrew's Church, it
was like being hurled back in time.
There it was - this imposing acoustically -
excellent cavity dotted with anxious com-
petitots, nervous parents and friends and
hopeful music teachers. In the midst of it all sat
the adjudicator - calm and confident, poised with
pencil and competitors' slips, anticipating a
show of precision and beauty.
I found a seat and suddenly was beset by those
beastly butterflies of my youth. Although the
youngsters in the competition looked fully
capable and totally. at ease, I knew that inside
they were quaking with apprehension.
Then the adjudicator tapped on his desk. He,.
was ready for the first contestant.
The music teacher, with fingers ed over
the keyboard of the piano, gave the -nod for her
student. The student's attention became rivetted
to the task at hand.
With the first note of the day, I was certain I
was in for a musical smorgasbord. -
I sat enthralled as each violinist's bow glided
--over the. strings - short strokes and long,
sometimes caressing, sometimes bouncing. I,.
observed the trained fingers as they commanded
the instrument to give forth first mellow sounds,
then sharp, now minor. And I saw the expression
on the face and in the body of each contestant as •
she felt the mood of every note and reached out
to attain it.
A few times, tears rolled down my cheeks. It
just thrilled me to comprehend the skill and the
dedication. of these young women. Yesterday
they were in blue jeans and a sweat shirt,
laughingand having furl with the rest of the kids.
Today they are dressed in sedate colours and
fabrics, looking every inch like accomplished
professionals.
How can such depth of musical emotion spill
from such young people, I asked myself? Like
chameleons who change colour to blend
naturally into the surroundings, so these violin
students seemed to move incredibily without
fuss between the uncontrolled exuberance of
youth and the tough discipline of age.
And the teachers. What kind of knowledge
must a teacher impart to get this kind of per-
formance from students? And if they can share
such knowledge, how much more is stored up
inside that just can't be taught?
Now the adjudicator steps forward to give his
remarks. His voice is soft, but he commands full
attention. He picks up his own violin and 'walks
through' each piece with the student. He shows
how to flex the wrist, use the entire bow, slide the
fingers, utilize the body. •
• Sometimes he even places the student's
fingers on the strings - effortlessly, patiently
teaching.
My young 'friend performed exceptionally well
.., and thecompetition was keen. For her, the
marks were important.
But for me, the joy was in hearing the music of
the masters played so lovingly by the new
generation, and seeing the certain promise that
tomorrow will be better for all of us because of it.
Last Thursday at breakfast I was served a
large helping of garbage - garbage picked
out of green garbage bags, from among used
coffee cups, discarded food wrappers,
banana peels and juice containers. And it
appears that even that had been stolen.
The proudly chest thumping purveyor of
this revolting concoction was The Globe -I
and Mail whom I had invited into my home
as a friend and helper with news and in-
formation from many places which I
cannot reach.
I felt betrayed and very much saddened
by this erosion of civilized intercourse in the
field of communications, somehow per-
sonally let down by the once dignified and
honourable messenger whom I had known in
better days, before the now increasingly
dog-eat-dog attitudes of big daily papers
started to ravish its methods, means and
credibility.
In a story protected by no less than
copyright and under a huge two-part
headline right across the front page, the
Globe, proudly showed pictures of several
obviously torn and then reassembled bits
and pieces of pages of what were said to be
documents pertaining to the 1983 budget of
Province of Ontario, not yet. presented and
releaseu.
Then, giving new interpretations to some
honest and familiar words, our national
newspaper described like an achievement
the fact that its reporter "found" these torn
and discarded pages in the garbage on the
private premises of the firm under contract
to print the budget for the Province this
year.
The Globe's editor went on to say that
"It was a difficult decision. We came to the
conclusion that we had no right to conceal
the facts.' What hypocrisy! What utter,
incredible nonsense!
The Globe and its confederates keep
repeating the word "leak"; like marionettes
actuated by strings, the opposition leaders
and members are going through the
motions, adding their own particular brand
of mostly predictable nonsense on the,
subject. Are these bodies in tune with the'
readers and the public they profess to
serve? Do you know anyone who wanted the
budget material stolen and who could not
have waited a few more days, to hear the
news from the Treasurer? How many people
do you know who really think that a
provincial treasurer is truly responsible for
the reprehensible actions of a garbage -
minded reporter? Would not most people
prefer to discuss the merits, or lack of them,
of the budget itself?
We had scarcely recovered from the
convulsions inflicted upon us in connection
with Mr. Lalonde's budget on the federal
level. That uproar was created by another
member of the news media who had not
heard that taking something without per-
mission from another person's office would
be called stealing in ordinary citizens' lives.
These have been the major but by no
means isolated incidents of news being
made and information being gathered by
questionable means. We are becoming used
to seeing legitimate news steadily mixed
with "leaks" in all sorts of matters, mostly
in government business, from unidentified
"reliable sources". The Globe is full of
them.
1 attribute my extraordinarily intimate
and strong feeling of personal letdown to the
idealism of the many years I have spent,
' ever since I remember, on promoting,
protecting and interpreting the value and
meaning of the extremely important and
positive role of the news media whose
freedoms are a reflection of the freedoms of
us all. From my solid convictions that public
affairs must be open to public scrutiny, the•
next natural step is to defend the legitimate
rights and responsibilities of the news
media. •And defending they have always
needed in surprisingly many quarters.
Therefore, the current low in the media
methods strikes me as a personal affront.
However, it does not alter my philosophy.
I am comforted by the fact that this
regrettable media malady has been con-
fined to some bigger members of that family
and I believe that they are capable of
learning from their mistaltes. The Globe is
very much aware of the thoroughly critical
public reaction to its latest folly. On Monday
it published an editorial "Mt~. Miller should
stay" in which it states that "Frank Miller is
an honourable man caught in a great em-
barrassment not of his making".
Perhaps it would be too much to expect an
apology from the Globe for having served us
garbage. However, as a friend of the family
I firmly believe that having been jolted by
public displeasure to even a momentary
stop on its exceedingly fast moving
escalator of daily routines, the Globe is
ready and willing to "pull up its socks" and
to serve us again well and with dignity.
ELSA HAYDON