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4 -- PORT PERRY STAR -- Tuesday, August 25, 1987 Editorial Comments Ho-Hum, Yawn Just in case you haven't noticed, there is an election campaign underway in the province of Ontario. 4 Late August and early September is a-silly time for a campaign. A lot of people seem to be more interested in trying to make the best of the last couple of weeks of the summer. They are watching the Blue Jays and Expos in pennant races, their thoughts are on the kids getting back to school the day after Labour Day. They spend their weekends at the beach, the cottage; at Wonderland, Ontario Place, the Zoo or the Ex. Many small communities are in the middle of preparing for their own agricultural fairs or exhibitions. Yet leaders of the three political parties and candidates in every riding from Cochrane to Lake Erie are out hustling for votes and try- ing desperately to focus the attention of the masses on an issue ---- any issue ---- when most people would much prefer to be doing something else. It is hardly a surprise that the issues in this campaign, at least those issues which seem to be surfacing more readily are fuzzy and ill-defined. The leaders are trading barbs over such things as bilingualism for Ontario. Larry Grossman says never; David Peterson says maybe some day, Bob Rae seems to ignore this one and talks about a driver owned insurance agency, or cleaning up the polluted beaches. Free trade (or freer trade). A federal matter that has wiggled its way into provincial politics. Everybody is against blanket free trade ~ with the Americans especially when it comes to the Auto Pact and farm products. But what are they for? They don't know what they are for because the federal government hasn't really told the country ex- actly what the negotiators are talking about on those endless trips to Washington. Yet, wherever the leaders campaign, free trade is a topic of conversation. The bilingualism issue is turning nasty in several areas of the province, especially in the north and east where there are substan- tial numbers of French-Ontarians and it is pitting French against English. Because there are no clear definitions, people are making up their own, based on fear, suspicion and in some cases, outright prejudice. . Rippling through this curious Ontario election campaign is another factor hard to pin-point and define: the federal spill-over. Con- servative candidates would not get caught dead uttering the name of national leader Brian Mulroney such is the state of his popularity these days. You won't find Brian's picture on any campaign literature in Ontario. ' NDP candidates on the other hand would give their eye teeth to have Ed Broadbent do a little stumping on their behalf. He's a 'mighty popular guy these days, but who wouldn't be compared with Brian and John Turner, both of whom are turning out to be just about the worst leaders to walk into the House of Commons halls. The old stand-by election campaign issues like jobs don't seem to be much of a factor in Ontario. How can one talk about jobs when the economy is super-hot and there are hundreds of jobs begging in all areas of the province. Just check the ads in the major papers. " The environment? Waell, everybody's for it, of course. They have been for years. Same goes for preservation of farmland and the family farm. Only trouble is voters are getting tired of hearing politicians stand up and shout they can save the family farm and clean up the environment. Cutting taxes? Not even an issue in this election campaign so far. And it shouldn't be an issue. Governments don't cut taxes. What they give with one hand, they take away with the other. In short, this campaign so far has been dullsville. Larry Grossman is trying to ignite something. David Peterson is doing his level best to avoid making a single major gaffe and Bob Rae hopes that when the dust settles on September 10, he will once again hold the balance of power. : This is the third time this decade the people of Ontario have gone to the polls (and it's only 1987). With a decided lack of clear-cut issues, it is little wonder a lot of people can barely stifle a yawn as they drive past the election signs on their way to the cottage or a Blue Jays game. {» CNA Port Perry = cn STAR ¢ 235 QUEEN STREET - PORT PERRY, ONTARIO = Phone 985-7383 P.O Box90 LOB INO J. PETER HVIDSTEN Member of the Publisher Canadian Community Newspaper Association C and Ontario Community Newspaper Association Advertising Ma ager Published every Tuesday by the Port Perry Star Co Ltd Port Perry Ontario J.B. MCCLELLAND Editor Authorized as second class mail by the Post Office Department. Ottawa and for cash CATHY OLLIFFE payment of postage in cash News & Features Second Class Mail Registraton Number 0265 MOAN < OM ay - Vay, NC Ny Ne Gn w § a 2200s ayy Subscription Rate In Canada $20.00 per year Elsewhere $60 00 per year Single Copy 50° LOOK , LARRY, NO TRAINING -WHEELS ! Co) < [ Chatterbox by Cathy Olliffe DIRTY LAUNDRY There is a song by former Eagle Don Henley, called Dirty Laundry. It has, actually, nothing to do with laundry, but instead points a semi-satirical finger at the Fifth Estate -- journalists. TV reporters in particular. This column, incidentally, has nothing to do with Don Henley, or reporters, but since I am a reporter, it's what I do, I thought it might be slightly amusing to title this column Dirty - Laundry. "Because I'm a reporter. Because this is all about laundry. And, to be more specific, laundromats. | I, personally, am a regular customer at laun- dromats. Since there's no room for a washer and dryer in the happy little abode I call home, and since I cannot afford to send my dirty socks to the cleaners, I frequent laundromats. They're not bad places to be, after all. And I 'certainly don't mind doing my laundry. As a mat- ter of fact, I almost enjoy washing clothes. It's sort of a catharsis from the rest of the stuff I do dur- ing the day. Watching swirls of multi-coloured clothing tumbling around in a see through dryer is almost hypnotic, and the more I watch, the faster the: day's tension disappears. * And there's something to be said about finishing your laundry. Folding it up in neat piles, putting it into green plastic garbage bags, and driving home feeling good about yourself for ac- complishing so much ---- while smelling the fresh scent of new Downy. Trust me, it's more exhilarating than it sounds. So, I ask myself, if I enjoy doing laundry at the laundromat so much, how come I'm always tempted to write a column about it each and every time I set foot in the place? Why is it sometimes I feel I want to stick my head in one of the washing machines, to keep other customers from seeing me sail off into fits of laughter? Why is it I feel I'm watching Second City re- runs? 'There's something sort of bizarre about a laundromat, and I'm not specifically talking about the laundromats here in Port Perry. No, I'm refer- ring to laundromats everywhere. There's just something unusual about these places, that transforms everyday, ordinary peo- ple into something else. [can't really put my finger on what it is they become, but I do know it's slightly twisted. And I shouldn't just talk about "they," because | undergo the same sort of transformation. The minute I walk into the la ndromat, bales of dirty stuff, laundry soap and Bounce in tow, I feel myself changing. Becoming more aggressive. Without knowing why, I'm suddenly IN A HURRY. Like a wind-up doll gone berserk, I speed up to an un-normal frenzy. "I gotta get this done -- I gotta get this done' reels through my head like a VCR tape on fast forward. Although I try to stop myself, I find I am over- whelmed by the consumate desire to finish my laundry RIGHT NOW. What's more, I suddenly find myself possessive. Of the machines. As soon as I get inside, I claim two or three washing machines AS MY OWN. THESE ARE MY MACHINES, LADY, YOU BETTER NOT MESS WITH MY MACHINES, UH-UH, NO WAY. And you better believe, I watch my machines like a hawk. Don't get too close, man, don't get your Tide too near my machine. THAT'S IT! THAT'S WAR, GUY. YOU SPILLED LAUNDRY SOAP ON MY MACHINE. As I'm sorting out the blues from the whites, the greens from the pinks, I'm making sure no one goes near MY MACHINES. I do this carefully, sure that the lady in the corner is eyeing my new dress, sure that the guy over by the dryers is some kinda pervert who is watching me put my underwear in with the whites. Paranoid about someone seeing any holes in my socks, I whip them into MY MACHINES, like a major league pitcher in the last game of the pennant. GABUNZA, IN YOU GO BABY, YAH, THERE GOES THE LAST PAIR OF GOTCHIES. HAH! TAKE THAT, YOU PERV. Breathing noisily, I finish the job, and greedi- ly snatch a chair to wait out the washing cycle. I pull out a book, open it up, and try to relax. It's hard to do so, cause I'm still worried about whether the washing machine will end its cycle while I'm not paying attention, and then ---- oh gosh, the inevitable might happen. Someone might take MY LAUNDRY OUT OF MY MACHINE. THEY MIGHT TOUCH IT WITH THEIR GRUB- BY HANDS AND PUT IT ON THE COUNTER. TOUCHING MY SOCKS AND UNDERWEAR. ARGHHHHHH! I do relax, however, and dig into the book, which, as always, is smutty and good. And just when I get to a good part, the washing machines click off. DRAT! Now I pull the wet things out and transport them into a dryer. If I'm lucky. Nine times out of ten the dryers are all in use, and I have to wait for 20 minutes, my wet laundry rapid- ly going mouldy. There's been times when two or three dryers are finished their cycle, and the owners are out somewhere eating hamburgers or something. (Turn to page 6) \ TT