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N'Y MMT. A TAF Te Dod SV alae ; SLL AA SA daily (EAE NY . RAIA 5TH CATR ALAS ; RBOR § 1h tr EU SLE FASE ESE MORSE WR PAE SPR NEG IEE ANY REEL AY. WR SATII PY BC {, LER SEES deh AA LAN ay Lh RLY & w fA \ ER a CARLES) as YR IAA FURARFEAN I LASAPSER I WOOT FONT Lor ¢ PRR SY RA FUT ERAN FEAL AN BEES LF J 3 Vy SESE AL GER ARS oY A ade x o Compromise on development It is obvious that Scugog Township council is going to have to work out some kind of a compromise .with Regional planners and residents of ce Albert over the size of building lots in neWdSub- divisions if there Is to be even slow growth in that community. The proposed hamlet plan, worked out by Regional planners calls for lots of "approximately"' one acre in size for new subdivisions. A Prince Albert citizens group wants that tightened up by removing the word approximately, in effect meaning the new lots could be no smaller than gne acre. However, developers who want to build new homes in Prince Albert have made it clear that it's simply not economical to build new homes on lots one acre in size. They want half acre lots. And the developers have a good point. When one considers the cost of developing lots in a subdivision for levies, services, roads and so on, the cost per lot at one acre each would indeed make them difficult to market successfully. And surely, new development in Prince Albert could take place on smaller lots because they would be serviced with piped municipal water, rather than individual wells. The citizens group also wants each subdivision parcel developed to its maximum before develop- ment can start on the other parcels. Surely, this is not a reasonable demand. Who, for example would determine which developer gets first go? And could the other developers be expected to wait five to ten years until the first parcel is completely filled? Not likely. On the other hand, the Prince Albert citizens group has made it plainly clear they want slow growth in their community, and certainly the local council must heed this wish and phase in develop- ment over a period of years. i But the other demands concerning lot size and full parcel development are prohibitive, and if accepted would have the effect of shutting down any subdivision development in the community. If the citizens want no more development, they 'should simply say so. But let's be realistic. Every municipality in Durham is competing for development. Without it the tax base stays stagnant while the demand for services goes up, and existing home owners have to pay more each year in their taxes if these demands are to bé met. The Prince Albert citizens group, by the way, also wants a new recreation area in their commun- ity. While the need for such a facility is not questioned, it is obvious that new development would help to pay for it. : Scugog has been in an era of slow growth in the past few years, putting increased pressure on the existing tax base. Orderly development at a reasonable pace must be encouraged in this munici- pality. - It has become painfully obvious that new industry is not breaking down the doors trying to locate in this Township. Although the commercial sector seems to be flourishing, continued growth is dependent on new development there. We are not suggesting that Township council open the doors wide for any developer with a chunk of land and a dream to build houses, but certainly the council cannot put restrictions on development which would rule it out of the question. Subdivision development has become a long and costly process, with mountains of red tape to be sorted out before even a building permit can be issued. Subdivison agreements between the developer and the local municipality can spell out precisely how many homes can be built, over what period of time, and soon. The Health Unit has the final say on whether lot sizes will contribute to pollution from septic systems. It is fairly apparent that Scugog is not going to experience massive development in short periods of time. But we should keep in mind that just ten miles to the south in the community of Brooklin, there is currently a proposal likely to get approval in the very near future, which will allow some 2700 new homes to be built. If that moves ahead over the next few years, 'Scugog will be competing with Brooklin for develop- ment. And Scugog's prospects in that competition would not appear to be too healthy. Surely, our local council can find a middle ground when it comes to new development which will protect as much as possible the interests of residents already here, and at the same time make it reasonably attractive for developers to bring decent homes on stream and make a profit at the same time.' Scugog residents can't have it both ways. They can't press for new and better facilities, improved roads and so on, while at the same time barring the gate on new development. : 2 A "NOSTALGIC TIMES Two waves swept over me the other day. No, I wasn't on the beach at Waikiki or Monaco or even such plebeian places as Florida, California or Mexico, which are now frequented by us common people. And no, I wasn't drowned, as I know you were hoping. (Two waves. Maybe we won't have to listen to Smiley's blathering any more.) I can swim like an aging, arthritic seal, and it would take more than two waves to do me in. ° oo The first wave came when someone announced at school that the price of pop in cans were going up by a nickel. I was swept by a wave of nostalgia for the days when pop was a nickel. And then came the second wave, one of revulsion, as I realized what inflation had done, not only to pop, which is irrelevant to a decent lif~ but to many another cherished aspect of our daily living. Being swept by two wavés of strong emotion is not an easy thing to cope with, and I had to fight off students who crowded around, saying: "Are you alright, sir? Can we get you a Coke or something? (They'd never think of a stiff Scotch). Maybe he's had a stroke and we'll get a day off." And so on. A moving experience. But I was so upset by the twin waves that all day I kept calling Shakespeare George, Bernard Shakespeare and Dylan Thomas, Bob Dylan. My students didn't really matter. That night, however, I looked back on the experience, and realized what it was. I had been exposed to mal du temps, and barely rescued by la memoire du fin de siecle. I hope noboday will cancel subscriptions because of the last paragraph. I am not _ trying to shove bilingualism down any- body's throat, and I think Pierre Trudeau is a ... well, you know what I think. ] What all that bad French means is that I got a pain. in the ass, then one in the pocketbook, both relieved only by memories of times past, accompanied by the inevi- table association that I'm just about ready to be put out to pasture. Except that nowadays they just send the horses to the glue factory. O.K., Glue Factory, here I come, and if I can even make a couple of things stick together, I'll still be two jumps ahead of a millionaire who hasn't been able to make one marriage stick together. Ah!. Those golden days. When a nickel would buy you: a Pepsi, a cup of coffee, a phone call, a chocolate bar three times as big as those anemics of today, a good (?) cigar, a ride on the carousel or the Ferris Wheel. When a dime would buy you a hamburger, a piece of homemade pie, a Saturday matinee, three eggs, a good (no question mark) cigar, a draft of beer, a bottle of milk, bill smiley a loaf of bread. It's true, you unbelievers. Those were the days when two boys received from a minister of the church one dollar and a half for working eight or nine hours cleaning up the huge grounds on which his huge manse was located. - My older brother got the dollar, I got the half. The minister complained about a few leaves. A couple of weeks ago, I engaged a young man and his crew to clean up our yard. It cost me $175.00 I didn't complain at all. Why didn't you do it yourself, you'll ask. Laziness, business, sore back, and the fact that I can't get any young people to rake leaves any more, even for three or four dollars an hour. They get an allowance from their stupid parents that makes that sort of demeaning labour not work looking at. But that half-dollar from the manse was wealth, to me. It meant ten bottles of pop, five matinees, a night at the movies with a girl friend. I asked the young entrepreneur who did my place how his business was going. Only in his twenties, he sounded like a right-wing conservative. He claimed that young fellows don't want to work anymore, don't do a decent job when they do work, dont show up for work, and are generally unreliable, shiftless, irresponsible, and plain lazy. : "Then how do you get guys like the ones who worked so hard at our place?" He admitted that he had to get someone who was hooked on motor-bikes or racing cars, and needed money to supply the habit. In my day, of course, if you had a habit, it was something as expensive as biting your fingernails or sniggering at off-colour jokes or drinking so much Pepsi you got pimples, which wrecked your love life, which was non-existent anyway, so it didn't matter. I'll never forget the time I found a dollar bill, in the snow. It was the first one I'd actually ever held in my hands. I dreamed of eloping to the South Seas with a girl I had my eye on in Grade five. _But it was not to be. There was certainly enough money there, and I think she'd have gone with me. Her parents were on relief. But it was not to be. With considerable pride, I told my mother about the dollar. She promptly went all Presbyterian on me, took the buck from my grimy paw and announced that we'd have to find out who'd lost it. That was my last chance to run away. I don't know what happened to the dollar bill. It probably went into twelve pounds of hamburger (yes, it was three pounds for a quarter, with some '"dog bones', now known as stewing beef, thrown in free.) I don't quite know the moral of this column. Maybe it is: Never Trust Your Mother. But I don't think so. © Ce i a Aig 0-5 i a Ml ots PRR NERSIRRERRNE FW