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-(~ Orono Weekly 'Urnes, Wednesday. November 27. 2002 - S Basic by Arthur Black Taking a chance on life So I'm sitting in my car at the pump while the gas jockey fills my tank with unleaded regular. regular. The ignition is switched off, but I've got the key turned to "Accessories" so 1 can listen to the radio. The pump jockey leans in my window and says: "I'm afraid I have to ask you to turn your car radio off, sir." "Why is that?" 1 ask. "Risk of a spark, sir. There was a gas station in Alberta that blew up because a customer had his radio on while he was getting gas." Meekly, (I'm Canadian, eh?) I turn my ignition key to "Off". I pay for the gas and drive away, making sure my wrist- watch doesn't accidentally brush against the window crank producing a spark that will turn the entire town into flaming Armageddon. And then I think...wait a minute. I've been filling up at gas stations at least once a week for the last 40 years. Just about everybody I know has been doing the same thing. I can remember seeing guys pumping pumping gas with cigarettes in their mouths, I have never, in four decades, heard of ANY fire caused at a gas pump ANYWHERE ANYWHERE by a spark from a car ignition. On the other hand, maybe the kid was right. Perhaps I'm just an aging desperado who's grown used to living dangerously. dangerously. By rights, I shouldn't even be here. I should have died from Extreme Carelessness Carelessness years ago. When I was growing up, my parents never strapped me into a kiddy's car seat - mainly because there weren't any. In those days, kids got to bounce around in the back seat along with the family mutt.' We could even roll the windows down and fall out in we wanted to. The only air bag 1 knew was an American Airlines stewardess stewardess who lived down the street. Heck, I was lucky to live that long, really. I spent a lot of my infancy in a non-CSA- approved crib and I'm pretty sure my blankets weren't treated treated with flame retardant. I know I spent a lot of lazy afternoons afternoons gnawing on the crib rails with my new teeth. Crib rails sporting a bright red coat of lead-based paint. Amazing I don't glow in the dark. And diet! Every nickel I could scrape up by cutting lawns (without safety glasses or noise reduction earmuffs) went for Hostess Twinkies, 12-ounce bottles of Kik Cola and all the bubble gum I could stuff between my jaws. And if we were really good at home, Mom might make us our favourite between-meals snack: a slice of Christie's white sliced, slathered with butter and then liberally sprinkled sprinkled with brown sugar. Sometimes on hot days she'd even give us a pitcher of sugar- laced Freshie. Otherwise we'd just drink water from the garden hose. Medic! We got a dead man walking, here! As kids, we suffered from a dreadful lack of rules and supervision. We had pea-shooters pea-shooters and home-made bows and arrows. Bike helmets? Closest I got was a Davy Crockett coonskin cap. Dogs ran free. We cooked up our own pickup games of baseball and touch football without a single coach! We played hockey on outdoor rinks without dressing rooms or anyone to help us with otir skates. Some of us even got hurt and had to get over it on our own. It was a brutal time. We spent summer afternoons afternoons swinging on a rope tied to a branch of a huge maple tree. You took a mighty sprint, grabbed the rope, soared out over the river, let go of the rope and landed in the swimming hole if you timed it right. If you timed it wrong, you landed in a raspberry patch. There was no lifeguard, the rope was rotten and the branch could have come down at any time. Mind you, by then we had already been coarsened by years of classroom barbarity. Kids nowadays won't believe this, but in those Dark Ages, some of us actually FAILED OUR YEAR. That's right - we were held back and forced to repeat a year's worth of dreary classes until we got it right. It was all based on some primitive primitive academic theory that certain certain kids were actually smarter and/or worked harder and therefore deserved preferential treatment. Thank heavens we've stamped that kind of thinking out. We live in much safer times now, but it can feel a little cramped. A smarter guy than me once said: "A ship is safe in a harbour, but that's not what ships are for." Applies to humans, too. JiJI Till .mMm- ? ife. " (Drono ^Oeefrftj 'Dimes The ürom Weetëlvj Times will publish its 5,000-issue run on December 4th, Copies will be delivered to all Hornes in Drono, Newcastle, Newtonvilie, Kendal and areas east of Bowmanvilie, Businesses wishing to advertise in tfiis special edition should call the Drono Weekly Times office at (905) 983-5301. [Ui by Clifford Francis ■\ .!' ■■ Vi i. ■ \\L\ k f\ on a secret mis- jl!j!!i|!!lll!i|i!ll liies llisiiiilisiliisilllllli! !llSIll!l!iS||lBills|l!S Æmt |w Wm #r Miae Oh of the Video 'N' Plus presented the Orono Crown Lands Trust with a $500 cheque, Monday morning, a thank you gift to the community for their support. The Oh's will be leaving the community, to pursue a business venture in Bowmanvilie. Accepting the cheque on behalf of the Crown Lands Trust, is its Chair John Thomson. Jig., A . .... ■ wg ft Orono Country Caie v Full Menu \\ ^ Main Street., Orono, Ontario • 983-9009 Brigitte | Brown *** Gift J • Pedicures/Manicures • Waxing • Nail Extensions i Eyelash Timing ESTHETIC STUDIO Certificates | • Electronic Muscle Stimulate (EMS) Available • Paraffin Wax • Ear Candling I I 15% DISCOUNT with coupon | 171 Mill Street, Orono, ON LOB 1M0 • 905-983-8169 ^ w | CORRECTION j I Proceeds . from the | I evening's reading of j I Dickens' . "Christmas I Carol" will go towards the | NevVcastle Community Church 'Christmas Food Hamper' program. The remainder of the day's proceeds proceeds will fund other N.C.C. projects. is MORRIS FUNERAL CHAPEL LTD. . SERVING DURHAM REGION SINGE 1841 ; ' ALL FUNERAL SERVICES. : PREARRAYED AND/OR PREPAID BURIAL - CREMATION - TRANSFERS "WHERE PROFESSIONAL . ETIQUETTE IS IMPORTANT" • FUNERAL DIRECTORS ■ ■■ PAUL R. MORRIS DOUG R. RUTHERFORD GARY M. CONWAY DEBRA D..KELLEHER L 623-5480 4 DIVISION ST... BOWMANV1LLE - AT QUEEN ST.