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rr | I II I I I ry Tw TH HN I EH Hy IEE yy iy Editorial Comments What's A Canadian So, what's a Canadian. That's a good question. And as we prepare to usher in a New Year, the answer is still as elusive as it was more than a century ago when the Fathers of Confederation put together this peculiar land call- ed Canada. A recent cartoon in a Western Canada newspaper contained some interesting thoughts on what's a Canadian. Roughly, the cartoon suggested that a Canadian is a person very concerned about cultural and sovereign identity. Meanwhile, despite these concerns over identity a Canadian is quite content to drive home from work in a car made in Japan or Korea, sip French wine with din- ner and retire for the evening to the easy chair to watch the Cosby Show, Monday Night Football and Miami Vice on the Hitachi TV set. A Canadian loves to vacation abroad, especially at this time of year, favours popular music from the United States or Great Britain, subscribes to any number of trendy magazines from south of the border, likes Coke or Pepsi and thinks nothing of feeding the kids a steady diet of Big Macs. Ah yes, a Canadian is a strange breed of bird. More and more Canadians are lining up against free trade because it's a threat to our cultural sovereignty, our Canadian way of life. Is there really a cultural sovereignty to lose in this country? The free trade issue is just the latest in a seemingly endless list of things that have pulled and tugged at Canadians over the past few decades. We seem to have a knack for things that take us in opposite directions. When was the last time that Canadians really pulled together as a unified nation? Not only do the various Regions of the country put their own self interests first, there is often a genuine dislike among the people of those Regions. Westerners are suspicious of everything and everybody east of the Manitoba border; British Columbians don't like anybody, including themselves; the Quebecois aren't sure if they like the rest of Canada and they are flirting once again with separatism; and those hardy Maritimers always feel hard done by, though they don't usually com- plain much about it. As for Ontario, well, smugness reigns supreme from Windsor to Ottawa and Toronto is a world of its own: aloof, rich, glitzy, looking down its nose at not only the rest of the country, but the rest of the province north of Muskoka. At times, it seems we are a nation of 24 million people all runn- ing in opposite directions, griping about this and that, suspicious to the point of hostility, lacking in a sense of purpose or destiny. Our political leadership over the past few years has done nothing to alter this sense of fragmentation and dis-harmony. If we don't have anything to gripe about, we'll find something, and as a last resort, there is always Canada Post, the CBC and Air Canada. Ironically, outsiders from other countries think Canada is just a wonderful place, albeit somewhat dull. Visitors are amazed that the streets of our cities are so clean and free from crime. Canada con- sistently ranks very high when compared to other nations in terms of literacy, quality of life, standard of living, health care, education, opportunities, and internal stability. Still, the question persists of what's a Canadian and where are we going collectively in the few remaining years of the 20th century, the century, by the way, that was supposed to belong to Canada. A New Year is just around the corner. And like so many other New Years, we are squabbling as a nation, this time over free trade. (Turn to page 5) Port Perry (a STAR =} 235 QUEEN STREET - PORT PERRY, ONTARIO bi Phone 985-7383 P.O. Box90 LOB INO J. PETER HVIDSTEN Publisher Advertising Manager Member of the Canadian Community Newspaper Association and Ontario Community Newspaper Association 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 Othce Department. Ottawa. and for cash payment of postage in cash CATHY OLLIFFE News & Features Oy Ae Un nN (Qa) " WW » A Ariny ays08 Second Class Mail Registration Number 0265 Subscription Rate: In Canada $20.00 per year Elsewhere $60.00 per year Single Copy 50° © COPYRIGHT -- All layout and composition of advertisements produced by the adver tising department of the Port Perry Star Company Limited are protected under copyright and may not be reproduced without the written permission of the publisher ZL Berrer TAKE THE OVEN MI]T% 700, TAD --~-- SHE GETS KINDA ROT Ar 7IMES / Cit AR », NY, da a _ a a -- ~~ - = hatterbox by Cathy Olliffe A MAGICAL MOMENT Something really wonderful happened to me the other day. I honestly believe I experienced the Christmas spirit, that it touched my hand, and for 'the first time, showed me how magical the Christmas season can be. It was a small moment that filled me with joy, a time that I shall never forget, and will always wonder about. It was Monday afternoon, and I was headed out to Highway 115, north of Highway 2, to cover the Olympic Torch Relay, featuring Port Perry's sole torchbearer, Norm Ball. While Norm had been cranked up for this special event for some time, I was a little less than enthusiastic. It was, after all, a Monday, the Star's busiest day of the week, and we were in the midst of producing our biggest issue of the year, our Christmas Greetings issue. There was a lot of work ahead of us, to put it mildly, and I was a little worried about leaving the office ---- even for an event of such importance. And I was also more than a little worried about finding Norm. He told me basically where he would be running, but I wasn't exactly sure. After all, Highway 115 is a busy road, a long road, with two lanes and limited access to sideroads. As a result, I spent a great deal of time circl- ing around cloverleafs and zooming up and down the highway, before I pinpointed where I thought Norm would run by. To be on the safe side, I checked with an of- ficial of the relay, who informed me Norm would be running a mile or so up the road. "Is there any way I can get up there by car?" I asked him, knowing that if I left my transporta- tion and started out on foot, I might be stranded if I was in the wrong place ---- and thus would miss Norm entirely. "You'll have to walk," he said. "And you'd better hurry, because he'll be here in about 20 minutes." Wasting no more time, I left the intersection where I was parked, where a crowd had started to gather, and hot-footed it up the side of the highway, a cold wind blowing in my face, and the roar of passing transport trucks in my ears. Along the way, I passed several other people on the side of the road, all gathered to watch the flame. I was struck by their great cheer and en- thusiasm, and like it or not, their infectious good humour began to spread inside me. Some had driven a great distance to watch the torch parade, while others gathered to watch a certain someone, a friend or family member. All were as excited as a kid on Christmas morning. Still, I didn't see any familiar faces, so I con- tinued along the highway. I'd walked just over a mile when up ahead | saw the flashing lights of an OPP cruiser, and a long caravan of motorhomes following behind. At that distance, I couldn't see who the runner was, but I retrievd my camera from its case and walk- ed faster, hoping against hope that it was Norm. If it wasn't Norm, I'd be forced to run back the entire mile, or maybe more. If it wasn't Norm, I might miss his run entirely, and not have photos for the paper. I crossed my fingers, my toes, my eyes, and watched the caravan as it came closer. My stomach churned. And then, a minute later, the torchbearer came into view. It didn't look like Norm, but I waited until the whole parade came closer, to make sure. ~ Finally, it was upon me. The runner was short, with blonde hair, a cheery grin. A girl. Definitely not Norm. My heart lurched and I cursed silently. As I was condemning myself for my stupid mistake, the caravan passed by, putting precious distance between it and me. Coming to my senses, I realized I'd have to run faster than the torchbearer to catch up, and then continue to run alongside until Norm took the torch. It meant a run of a mile or two, and believe me, I'm in no shape for that. But I didn't have a choice, I needed the pictures. [ started running, camera bag banging my side. At first it was easy, and I actually seemed to be catching up to the caravan. I passed the rear OPP cruiser and was just catching up to one of the motorhomes, when the running began to hurt. My lungs felt like they were going to burst. My legs melted like jello, yet I pushed on. I was desperate, and tried to ignore the pain. I was wheezing by this time, slowing down, and the OPP cruiser that I had passed a few yards ago, was passing me. I was almost sobbing now, this close to giving up. I couldn't believe I was go- ing to miss Norm. I couldn't believe I had come this far and was going to miss a once-in-a-lifetime event. But my body was crying out to stop, and I was just about to give it up. When suddenly, a voice broke my reverie. "Would you like a ride 2" ['had been staring at the ground as I pound- ed the dirt, so the voice came as a complete surprise. No kidding, I felt like I'd just heard an angel. Tlooked up, face to face with a CFTO-TV news cruiser and news celebrity Lin Eleoff. And she did look like an angel, sitting at the wheel, with her blonde hair and her beautiful clothes, and her soft voice inviting me to hop in. (Turn to page 8)