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Western Weekend A word of congratulations to the Scugog Chamber of Commerce and organizers of Western Weekend. There was no shortage of events and activities over the three-days - everything from a mutt show to a fishing derby - enough for every member of the family and just about all age groups. } From our observations, the events attracted good-size crowds, who seemed tp be enjoying them- selves no matter where they were. Durham Police reported no unpleasant "inci- dents'" associated with the Weekend, and by Monday morning, the litter and trash that accumulated on Queen Street and in the waterfront park had been certainly by itself won't make any dent in the massive problems dogging the auto manufacturing industry in Ontario that has resulted in massive lay-offs. But that is not the point. What is at stake is a very important principle involving ethics and human rights. The Soviet Union these days is not exactly a "friendly ally' of Canada, its record of treatment of people and individuals inside and outside its borders is criminal. The Soviets have never done any favours for anybody, and it seems absurd that this country ME a 'editorial poge should permit them to market even one car here. Sure, the sticker price of a new Lada beats the best that the North American, European and Japan- ese car makers can offer, but the production is both " owned and controlled by the state in the Soviet Union. : The American and Canadian governments have In the last couple of years provided loans and incentives to two auto makers here, but this is a far cry from having the government take over produc- tion completely, do away with unions and tell the # workers what they will earn, like it or not, as is the (Turn to page 7) smi cleared away. We know that a tremendous amount of hard work goes into Western Weekend every year, not just by the organizers directly involved, but by members of the various groups and clubs in the community who set up booths or sponsor events. The Weekend is good for the community, and we trust the Chamber of Commerce will continue its involvement in years to come. But as with any successful event, however, ongoing change is necessary to keep the crowds happy and to maintain interest. There was a good start this year with several different activities which hopefully will become The Lob-Ball tourney, the fishing derby and Soccer tournament all annual features of the Weekend. attracted considerable interest. So, in taking our hats off for a very successful Western Weekend in 1980, the 10th anniversary, by ~the way, we look forward-to-more-of the same-anda-- | few new wrinkles thrown in again next year. Davis Right Aboutladas Ontario Premier Bill Davis is right when he called last week for a ban on the Russian-made Lada automobiles in this country. Davis, speaking to the Durham Rotary Club, accused the Russians of ""dumping" the Lada on the Canadian market 'at prices probably below the cost of production." The list price for a new Lada is about $4300, and so far, some 13,000 of them have been imported into Canada during the past two years. Banning the sale of Ladas in this country Mean Z, BACK Ay THE IMPASSE . .. bill FROGS AND SNAILS People keep asking me if I have any plans for the rest of the summer, such as going on a trip, renting a cottage, learning to scuba dive or whatever. To each and all of them Ihave one answer: "I'm going into a rest home where nobody under the age of 50 can get near me." We've just had a lengthy visit from our grandboys, the first in more than six months. If you have any druthers when your children are expecting children, put in an application for girls. . There is no girl or girls on earth who could have put their Grandad through the physical obstacle course I've been through in the past week. When school ended in June, I thought I'd hang around for one more year before making way for a real teacher. I was in pretty good shape and another 10 months in front of the chalkboard would be no sweat. This week, I've almost decided to retire on the third of September. Somehow, I don't think either the authorities or the students want an English department head cranking around in a wheel chair. ley The bursitis in my shoulder is killing me, after throwing a baseball to a potential Babe Ruth for hours. My right foot is bruised, battered and sprained from trying to prove I can still kick a football over a big spruce tree. My knees are scraped, my hands are raw, my torso is thoroughly pierced from climbing trees to bring down small boys who can get up, but like cats, can't get down. : My back door had to be removed and repaired after being slammed approximate- ly 3,000 times by the boys and their buddies up the street. My face is burned to lobster-like hue from being out in the sun as long as seven hours at a stretch. They're moving too quickly for the sun to hit them a single direct blow. I don't know much about girls. I had one about 28 years ago, and she was no problem until she became a teenager. The only idiosyncracy she had was wanting to go to the bathroom at the most inopportune times, such as sailing along on a three-lane highway at 60, with two turkeys tail-gating you, and not a tree or bush in sight. But I'm sure girls are not as curious, daring, and dicey as small boys, who want to climb as high as possible, go as fast as possible, lean as far as they can over a dock or cliff, and hit each other as hard as they can over the head with a fist, a stick, or a baseball bat. Do little girls get all cleaned up, dressed up, and then dash through the lawn sprinkler immediately and frequently? Do little girls'go down to the docks with you, ask how deep the water is, then lean over at an angle of 65 degrees to look down and make sure you're not prevaricating? Do little girls eat junk food all day, then come home and gobble down enough dinner to keep a healthy lumberjack going? Do little girls plague you because everyone else on the highway is passing you, and when you tell them the other drivers are turkeys, suggest with a grin that maybe you are a chicken? Do little girls put on boxing gloves and try to hammer the daylights out of each other, no quarter asked or given? Do little girls, the moment they've arrived for a visit, ask that everything be turned on: the fireplace (in July), the hi-fi, the fans, and the lawn sprinkler? Dolittle girls go from six in the morning until nine at night without stopping in one place for more than nine seconds, aside from the odd four-second pee demanded by: Grandad? Well, maybe little girls are not as angelic as I've suggested, but little boys are just as demonic ag I've intimated. In fact, my wife heard at the hajrdress- er's that little boys are more honest, more affectionate and more lovable than little girls, who of course, are practising to be big girls. That may be. However, I'm about as bruised, batter- ed, bewildered and burnt as though I'd climbed a mountain without any ropes, or crossed a desert without water. Gran doesn't take the punishment I do. - Oh, she does a lot of work. The washing machine is thumping most of the day, there isn't a dry towel in the house, she's about run out of Band-Aids, and she spends hours in the kitchen, whipping up such delicacies as honey-and-peanut-butter sandwiches and strawberry shortcake. (Guess who picks the berries?) . She had a whirl in the backyard one day, batting, fielding, being shot with the hose, did nobly, but hasn't been out, of the house since, and spent most of the next day in bed. Thank goodness for good neighbours. John "fixeded"' the car doors when the boys through some miracle of mechanics, had made it impossible to close them. He also "fixeded" the sprinkler. (Ballind, the little guy, wants to make sure the past tense is quit clear, so he adds an extra "ed'.) Jim, another neighbour, fixeded the door, which was just about to fly away by itself. ; All in all, however, it hasn't been too bad, except for the sleeping arrangements. The boys are peripatetic while somnambu- lant. You go to bed in one room, alone, wake up at midnight in another bed, another room, three of you, and may wind up in the morning in still another, four of you. I wouldn't trade them for all thé Samanthas and Mary Ellens and Joannes in the world. But make me an offer.