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SAE SEE PRO THO WAR FERN SLR Rp ATE ERAN de FN RG A nD LSE Si editoriol comments A Two Way Street Canadian Labour leaders have made it clear they are opposed to any demands by business or industry that workers take a cut in pay during these tough economic times. This kind of thing has been going on in some European countries and recently the United Auto Workers south of the border gave its locals the right to re-negotiate contracts with employers. Maybe labour leaders in this country should give it a second thought. Surely there are a lot of workers in Canada who believe that 90 per cent or even 80 per cent of a pay-cheque Is better than no pay-cheque at all. By the same token, labour leaders here are quite right when they ask what the reaction of business and industry would be if profits were running high and there was a request from the union to share in the 'good times.' . Still, these are extraordinary times that we live in with the economies of every industrialized nation facing peril and uncertainty. Business and labour have long ben criticized for adopting a "garrison" mentality when it comes to getting along with each other, and it has been said that the inability of the two sides to even understand each other, let alone get along, has been one of the problems. Whether they like it or not, labour and business are saddled with a common problem today: plant closings. It is now a question of sink or swim together. Nobody likes to take a cut in pay, but maybe it would be a little easier to take, if there was an iron-clad guarantee that any lost wages now would be made up by the company when times got better, and if the company turned its profit picture around, the employees would get a share. Industry and labour have spent the last century building a wall of mutual distrust and hatred. As 1981 draws to a close, the time is running out for them to start dismantling those walls. Hard Times Is it just coincidence that as the bottom is sup- posedly falling out of our economy, the Ontario Lottery Corporation chalked up record sales and profits? Although it may be difficult to prove, figures released recently by the Corporation would indicate that as times get tough, more people are willing to spend more money on that one in a million chance of striking it rich the easy way. "Whar You SEE - ... 15 omar you GE7S d For the year ending March 31, 1981, combined sales of Wintario, Lottario, Provincial and Super Loto ticket sales soared to $490 million in Ontario; an increase of $167 million or 51 per cent over the previous year. With the economy continuing its slide this fiscal year, it seems the balance sheet will get even brighter for the Crown company that runs lotteries in Ontario. Of that total, 55 per cent went in prizes; 15 per cent for operating expenses, and 30 per cent was used for sports, recreation, culture, medical, and other projects to "'make Ontario a better place to live." However, one can't help but wonder how many people are playing the lotteries because they know 30, per cent goes for worthy projects. Or are they desperation buyers, hoping against hope for a lottery miracle which will do-away with the pain of unemploy- ment, high mortgage rates, and inflation. But don't think of those nasty things; think instead of a certified cheque for $100,000 or $1 millien. - While the idea behind lotteries (to raise money for worthy public projects) it is a good one, it is a little disturbing to think that governments are taking advantage of the economic fears of ordinary citizens, and even though we see the faces of smiling winners in the newspaper pictures, your chance of winning a big one is less than the chance you'll be struck by lightening and bitten by a rattlesnake on the same day. Also, if Ontarians spent $490 million on lottery tickets last year, it is fair to assume the total for Canada is well over $1 billion. That's a lot of money, and it is only one form of gambling. The total amount spent by Canadians on all forms of gambling would probably go a long: way in wiping out the federal deficit. Whether gambling is good or bad, right or wrong, is a matter for the individual to decide. Whether increased lottery sales reflect human nature or a tough economy Is anybody's guess. Governments have obviously taken a shine to the lottery game. So why the double standard when it comes to off track betting, or (Heaven forbid) casino style gambline? If Ontarians are so inclined to spend $490 million on lottery tickets last year, maybe more of this money should be spent on things that really count: like hospitals, and universities, both of which are in a bind right now. THE BA-HA-1 JUGGLER My son the juggler. Yes, he was able to "fit us in" for a visit last weekend. We were honored. It's not often that he can get home for about 30 hours. We see just a little more of him than we did when he was 8,000 miles away in Paraguay. I'll try to describe him objectively, then move to a more subjective point of view. He looks like his Dad, from behind, I've been told many times. Something about the bill smiley on occult literature. Speaking Spanish, French and English, he has a variety of friends and acquaintances that would boggle the mind. Young women, old men, Brazilian waiters, blacks, Frénch- Canadian playwriters. How does he support himself? Well, he works two days a week at a classy restaur- ant in the city, as a waiter. And he is also a reflexologist, and gets $25 a rattle for treatments. tilt of the head, the way we walk. About the same height and build, though" I'm thickening a bit about the waist, dammit, and the hair is a different colour, his brown, mine white. : From in front, he's more like his mother, especially the brown eyes that can®turn in . seconds from misty sentimentality to a couple of orbs that literally burn when they hit you. In temperment, he's a good mixture of his parents. He has his father's sweet, gentle, reasoriable manner and complete disdain for the trivia of life. And he has his mother's ferocious anger over the trivia of life, her compassion, her desire for perfection, her urge to talk until the very bones of a listener are exposed. Like me, he's lazy as a coon dog, but can work like an ordinary dog when it's some- thing he's interested in. Like her, he wants to be loved, and to have it demonstrated. We kiss and hug every time we meet,; rather unusual in these days for a father dnd son, -who usually shake hands and stait talking about money and cars and other such fascinating things. He's also a product of his times: the sedate fifties, the roaring sixties, the confused seventies. No wonder he's a juggler. I called him that, because from one meeting to the next, I'm not quite sure which balls (no pun intended) he's throwing up and catching. And sometimes failing to catch. And I guess the reason he's a juggler is- that he has a streak of adventure and audacity in him, which forces him into a continuous confrontation with things as they are. He was a model kid until about 16: good marks in school, polite behavior with adults, hair neatly cut, practised his piano, under pressure, but faithfully.-Bandmaster in the school orchestra. Alter boy at the church, Then, one summer morning, he went missing. He was 16. There was a thoughtful note in the bread-box telling his parents he was taking off for Quebec to learn French. Panic. His ma insisted I visit the police who "were rather amused. He was only about the sixteenth kid in our community who had taken off that summer. I wasn't too worried but what goes on in a mother's heart? I don't know. I've never been a mother, except to my two kids and their mother. He came home. Spoke pretty good French: Finished high school, went off to college. Then disappeared again. Was on his way to New Orleans when we nailed him in Baltimore. Went to three different univer- sities, tasting and testing. Found them all wanting, at that particular time. Don't blame him. Regret the years I spend acquiring a knowledge of English and phil- osophy and history, all of which I could have got on my own. ' He travelled all over Canada - east and ' west coasts, selling vacuum cleaners in Calgary, working as a waiter on coastal pleasure boats. And somewhere along the line, after he'd been to Mexico and the southern U.S., he became a Ba-ha-i. That meant he had to make a pilgrimage to Haifa, in Israel. Which he did, stopping off in Ireland on the way home. Then off to Paraguay for five years, The juggler? Right now, he's in Toronto. 'He is taking courses at the University in astrology, music and composition, and . playing jazz. He is an expert, or thinks he is, Reflexology? That's a system of probing and prodding your nerve ends to get rid of the pains and poisons in your body. He gave me a two hour treatment last Saturday morning, and I (thinking I was in good shape) hurt so much that I would have given him $25 to quit. x He'll keep you up until three a.m. talking then either bounce out of bed at seven, insisting you go for a walk; or sleep until noon. : His mother had bought a roast, a rather rare occasion around our place these days, baked a pie with special love, and had all sorts of goodies ready for him. He was fasting and had been for a week, taking only liquids. She was miffed. he And, among all his juggling, he spends countless hours working at the Ba-ha-i faith, attending meetings, speaking, etc. An interesting character, the juggler. Generous to a fault when he has some money. Completely unscrupulous about borrowing when he hasn't, But, boy oh boy, I wish he didn't get so angry when I can't tell him the exact minute and hour his sister was born, so he could do her horoscope. : 4 oS rag e