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The Huron Expositor, 1986-05-28, Page 2OPINION T Huron . `� X ositor SINCE 1860, SERVING THE COMMUNITY FIRST BLUE RIBBON AWARD 1985 Incorporating Brussels Post 10 Main Street 527-0240 Published In SEAFORTH, ONTARIO Every Wednesday morning ED BYRSKI, General Manager HEATHER McILWRAITH, Editor The Expositor Is brought to you each week by the efforts of: 'Pat Armes, Bessie Broome, Marlene Charters, Joan Guichetaar, Anne Huff, Joanne Jewitt, Dianne McGrath, Lois McLlwaln, Bob McMillan, Cathy Melady and Patrick Raft's. Member Canadian Community Newspaper Assoc. Ontario Community Newspaper Association Ontario Press Council Commonwealth Press Union International Press Institute Subscription rates: Canada $20.00 a year, In advance Outside Canada $60.00 a year, in advance Single Copies - 50 cents each SEAFORTH. ONTARIO, WEDNESDAY, MAY 28, 1986 Second class mail registration Number 0696 Interesting conflict Junkyard refugees FROM THIS ANGLE. by Patrick Raftis North Americans, they say, have had a "love affair" with the automobile ever since the days when Henry Ford's Model T ruled the mads. If so, I must be the exception to the rule. Pity my automobiles, for they must feel alone and unloved. I treat the metal monsters as a necessary evil, made tolerable only by my aversion for walking long distances. Perhaps my disenchantment with cars stems from the fact I have never owned one that consisted of much more than a pile of scrap iron on wheels. My current chariot, a 1974 model is a semi-mobile example of all that can go wrong in a car. In fact, if it does not stop raining soon (as I write this it has rained for four consecutive days) I am going to have to get some new wheels pronto. You see, my car does not operate properly in the rain, it never has. The slightest bit of water on or under the hood and it is hesitant to start. Once started, it moves with all the grace of a drunk on roller skates. Until it has dried off, it refuses to attain anything resembling cruising speed. On damp days it will run the quarter -mile in slightly less than four minutes. Hardly the Indianapolis stan- dard. Not only is it slow, but it has developed a leak which allows water to form small ponds in the back seat during even a mild shower. Have you any idea what wet, 12 -year-old upholstery smells like? Rotting fish would be an apt comparison. It's like car-pooling with Captain Highliner. Not a pleasant prospect. Despite these shortcomings, my present wheels seem like a Ferrari, compared to the mangled metal I called transportation before this one. My 1969 Pontiac, which I still owned in 1982, left much to be desired. Affectionately referred to as Spot (short for Rust Spot), this ancient auto was covered with green paint which years of exposure to the elements had nearly powderized. Anyone foolish enough to make physical contact with this car soon found parts of their body colored with the same strange hue of green. I shouldn't really mock this car, as it was given to me free gratis, by a brother-in-law who would otherwise have buried it in the auto graveyard. It did get me through two years of college without having to depend on the bus system, but it caused me some embarrassment too. Like the time I took it to a drive-in theatre and it stalled, irrevocably, as soon as I reached the head of a long line of cars waiting to pay to get in. Despite my mechanical expertise, I was unable to get Spot running again, and a large group of complete, strangers had to be enlisted to manually roll it into the theatre. Although I never returned to that particular theatre, I heard through the grapevine it has been referred to as The Push -in ever since, in deference to my one appearance. Another car let me down several miles outside of Elmira one time. It had blown air, radiator hose, and I decided the simplest g solution was to hitch -hike into town and buy a i new one. Wrong. After a solid 20 minutes of watching motorists whiz by, ignoring my out -stretched thumb, it finally occurred to me the chances i of someone stopping to pick up a man armed with a rubber hose were relatively slim. The cowards! The only car I can claim to have been even slightly fond of, was the first one l ever 1 owned. I was sixteen. It was only a few years .i older. It cost me- a hundred bucks and had a i top speed of 55 miles per hour, downhill, with the wind, fighting every inch of the way. It a had a radio which would pick up unintelligible.„ static with astounding clarity, and a brief list I of similarly unattractive options. However, it was transportation and that's all I really dare to ask from a car. Oh sure, like everyone else, I dream about 1, owning a sleek new 1986 automobile and I am sure that eventually I will. Probably along about 1999. But what's the hurry. The municipal conflict of interest act has been accused In the past of having too many grey areas, and that may be true. But a topic of discussion initiated last week at a Seaforth Council meeting could be interpreted as having a potential for a conflict of interest. Comments made by Councillor Bill McLaughlin prior to council passing its accounts payable, that town departments showed too much favoritism, particularly when dealing on a business -level with local merchants might have been better left unsaid. Councillor McLaughlin admitted he was basing his remarks on the fact that he'd been keeping tabs on the accounts payable during his time on council, and had noticed the Seaforth Motors name was appearing on a regular and frequent basis in the accounts payable. He pointed out there were other businesses in town, his own included, that could provide the same services and wondered if the town might be too "married" to Seaforth Motors. - While in some sense Councillor McLaughlin's comments may have been well-founded and his concern genuine, the fact that he more or less represented his own interests by drawing specific attention to the automotive business, Is cause for some concern. One could have to wonder whether or not Councillor McLaughlin would have been as vociferous in his complaint had it concerned some other area of business other than the automotive trade. According to the conflict of interest act there is conflict "where a member, either on his own behalf of while acting for, by, with or through another, has any pecuniary interest, direct or Indirect In any matter and Is present at a meeting of the council or local board at which the matter Is the subject of consideration. . The act also states a member has an indirect pecuniary interest In any matter in which the council is concerned If he is a member of a body that has a pecuniary interest in the -matter or is.a partner of a person or is in;, the employment of,a person=or-bodyxthat has a pecuniary interest in then matter. If such is the case the member Is required to declare such a conflict and to abstain from contributing to any discussion on the same. Whether or not .Councillor McLaughlin actually effected a vote on his charge of favoritism, It was obvious by the mayor's statement the matter will be looked into, that the conversation he initiated could bring about subtle changes In the way the town does business, and just who the recipients of that business might be in the future. And that In Itself is unfortunate. In a world where free enterprise is the rule of thumb, it is strange that anyone would suggest the town do business on 'a socialist scale. It would be wonderful If the town could operate on a rotating basis, getting the services it requires by utilizing all the businesses in town. Unfortunately that isn't always the best alternative. And by requesting such Councillor McLaughlin may be doing a disservice to the very community he was elected to serve. What the town council members should be doing is enforcing the type of buying practices that themselves would use as an individual -- ones that would ensure the best service at the best price. Even in initiating discussion which could affect their chances at getting more of the town's service goes against the very terms of their oath of office. — H.M. Time to act "Censorship is an evil. It is the suppression of ideas." The ideal expressed in this quote is hard to argue with. Censorship after all was one of the main problems causing the delay In receiving information from the Soviet Union about the recent nuclear accident in the Ukraine. In it's various forms, it has been used as a tool of oppression by repressive governments the world over for years. What can be argued with, is the validity of this statement, considering the source from which it comes. These words were uttered by Ontario Film and Video Review Board chairman Mary Brown, when commenting on media speculation her contract as chairman would not be renewed by the Provincial Liberal government when it expires June 8. Mrs. Brown goes on to say in the same interview her job is not, as it is perceived, that of Ontario's official film censor. "But that (censorship) is not what our board is involved in. We review an entertainment medium -- visual images," she says. Why then was the Film and Video Review Board called the Ontario Censor Board, until just afew years ago? If Mrs. Brown is not a true censor, why then does she take scissors in hand and cut whatever scenes she finds offensive out of films before the public can see and fudge them for themselves? Mrs. Brown, of course, is not the source of the problem, she is merely doing her job as directed. The problem is that her job exists at all. What the Liberals should be doing, while they have the chance, is to change the whole mandate of the review board, instead of trying to sneak in another patronage appointment. The board should be made a true review board, with power only to classify films and videos -- not to butcher or veto them. Films and videos should be classified. After all, the public has a right to knoW what kind of entertainment is being offered. But, at the same time, people should have a right to decide for themselves what they want to see. "In many respects, the film review board represents Mary Brown's standards, and 1 think that is the problem," says Monte Kwinter, whose ministry oversees the board, and Who is at the forefront of the move to dump Mrs. Brown. - - Mr. Kwinter however, has Missed the point. The board Will always reflect the standards of its members, rather than those of the community they claim to represent_ So, the solution is not to change the personnel on the board, but to change the idea jlehind. it. SO, HOW DID I D0? — TMs group of Seaforth Public School Field Day, May 22. From left: Brenda Jessome, Elizabeth Lamble, students looks anxious to find out how they tared, as they check Jacqule Bennewles, teacher Carolyn Griffin, Michelle Murray and their placement after the running long Jump event on Track and Danielle Thompson. Raitls photo Mind-boggling hypocrisy 1 can understand why a Joe Clark led conservative government did not last long in power. All you had to do is watch this wishy washy external affairs minister spew self righteous indignation over South Africa's bombing of rebel bases last week to know why he is a dud as a politician. Where was Clark when the world's number one terrorist, Ronald Regan, was murdering innocent women and children in the form of unprovoked attacks on Libya? This American government sinks millions upon millions of dollars every year in support of covert operations around the world that have led to deaths of thousands of innocent people. Clark, just this past week, gave open support to an American plan to sink more money into the study of the most heinous, evil type of warfare ever concocted by man — cremical warfare. How can a man find South African air raids on Communist backed rebel camps offensive and in, virtually, the same breath endorse plans for the m ost hideous type of method to kill a man? • It boggles the mind. This is not a column that supports apartheid or Libyan terrorism. Far from it. I just get sick over the blatent hypocrisy CORNUCOPIA by Dave Broome shown by our Western, democratically elected politicians. Successive American and Canadian gov- ernments have been responsible for their own brand of apartheid. That is the theft of our two nations from the Indian people. We have shunted our native people onto reservations and have thus guaranteed them a life of poverty, misery and alcohol abuse. Someone tell me if there is a difference. Yes, I know we are a majority but that is hardly an excuse for the many past wrongs inflicted upon the original owners of this country. We stole this nation Rust like white South Africans stole theirs. The only difference is they are still a minority while we white Canadians are a majority. People like Joe Clark dig deep into their thesaurus and dictionaries for 12 -letter words when it comes to condemning the atrocities of others but become strangely mumble mouth- ed when it comes to addressing the problems we have at home. Why is it, when they appear on the international stage, they all act like tigers with a mission from God? Yet when the crunch comes before the home audience they stumble, mumble and fall like insipid morons? if they used just half the pizzaz they show on the road they would probably go undefeated. As it is, they use these opportunistic moments on the international stage to help bolster their sagging image at home. Unfortunately, when you score into your own net on the road, like Joe Clark, you still come out a loser and this home town follower is getting sick of it. With the next election, you can bet this sad sack, scandal ridden conservative lot will be moving elsewhere. The home record just isn't good enough. What do 'real men' really eat? There seems to be a lot of differing views about what constitutes a "real man", some of the most interesting coming from a so-called man himself. The source i have been cleverly tapping over the months for my information on the subject, has some rather interesting (?) ideas. The first is that - real men really don't eat quiche - they eat spaghetti. Unfortunately though I'm finding that theory a little hard to digest. Maybe times have dianged or maybe my perception of the "real" man is different. i remember a time when "real" men ate neither pasta nor quiche. !mean, do you ever remember seeing Marshall Matt Dillon, John Wayne, Ben Cartwright, Floss, Adam or even L'il Joe sit down to a plate of pasta? None of them to my knowledge were ever caught slurping on a wet noodle. Why would they even attempt to risk it? Eating spaghetti is such a challenge and for men difficult, since it requires they tackle the problem of manoeuvering the pasta around a then perfectly miffed moustache and away from the five o'clock shadow (unless they've recently shaved) beneath the shoestring's eventual destination. A man's vanity is another issue to contend with when talking spaghetti, since he risks all form of respectibility when he lifts the fust forkful of the tasty fare to his mouth. In all consideration a hand minor should be a part of the standard table setting that accompan- ies such ameal. It would be a definiteasset in SWEATSOCKS by Heather Mdllwraith eliminating that wayward sauce. One could canyon foreveron the subject of manhood and spa ghetti, but fortunately my source gave me more than one sure way of recognizing the "real" man. He likes to use himself as an example - poor, disillusioned boy. Real men, he insists, are expert drivers. They show absolutely no fear of the road - or its shoulders. And, he says, they like to keep ori top of how their car is functioning and how it will function under adveise conditions, should they ever arise. Thus, the reasoning behind those brief little trips off the road and along the tip of the ditch. Not only are men expert drivers though, they are also the- most adept at virtually anything which has anything to do with a car. In fact, he gloats, theycan parallel park one of the pesky, eight-cylindermodels, in less than 90 tries and just under 20 minutes. This is possible of course, because theyapproach the task intelligently,, pulling into the spot from behind, rather than backing in from the front. Of course it also helps when they really put theirMinds to work, and decide they'll wait it out until the guy in front returns front Whereveriteis and moves his car, giving him two panting spots to work with. Real men are, of course, the strong silent type. They are the type who never babble and never tack on the phone to one person for more than an hour and a half at a time. Real men would never consider doing the dishes because they know women enjoy the task and they'd just be too much of the gentlemen to think of ever depriving them of that pleasure. Real men would never insist women wait on them hand and foot, but they would suggest the idea enough times so as the same woman would not help but feel they were entitled to Some sort of maid -like devotion. The real man would never insist a woman cook for him, but would play on her sympathy long enough to wrangle an invitation. And if that didn't work the "real" man would think of some innocuous subject Which he knows he could make a bet on and possibly win. (ft probably wouldn't therefore involve the subject of hockey).. 'Then of course, that same "" be on would of all things, suggest spaghetti the menu of this self -initiated meal. Because of course, as was mentioned in the beginning - real men don't eat quiche - they eat spaghetti.