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Page 4, Terrace Bay-Schreiber News, Wednesday, February 12, 1986 Ieee Editorial The Terrace Bay-Schreiber News is published every Wednesday by: Laurentian Publishing - Co. Ltd., Box 579, Terrace Bay, Ontario, POT 2W0. Telephone: (807) 825-3747. PRODUCTION MANAGER TOR ee ee oe ee ee . Conrad Felber MRED ERAT TONING cea hare ey 6 cc co, hae Sone Gigi Dequanne CPEs ey os eee Gayle Fournier ye eye Mary Melo Single copies 35 cents in-town -- $14.00 Subscription rates per year 4 y out-of-town -- $18.00 Member of Ontario Community Newspapers Association and The Canadian Community Newspapers Association. ou DPS Dance is over There will be no more licenced dances at the high school in Terrace Bay thanks to a recent decision of the Lake Superior Board of Education, and a number of area residents are upset, to say the least, about the situation, but the Board cannot really be blamed. The blame, instead, should be heaped upon the archaic laws and regulations of the province which pass the respon- sibility of the safety and sobriety of people attending such licenced events to the owners of the building in question instead of the people running the dance and those atten- ding it. It is possible that the Board took the easy: way out in making such a hasty decision after discovering the true nature of their legal liability in such instances, instead of investigating some other possibilities. But the decision has been made and it is unlikely that the Board will change its mind in the near future. Perhaps this incident has just gone to show that there is a need for some sort of Community Hall in Terrace Bay. Township Council should go ahead with its plans to com- plain about the Board's resolution, but it should also look into the feasibility of a Community Hall which could be built in the future. At the same time, the Board should also make certain that the question of liability does, in fact, exist. Conrad Felber Before I get on with this week's column (which, I should warn you ahead of time, whines about smokers and their filthy, disgusting, dangerous habit), I would like to add something to my column of last week, which was about the tragic space: shuttle explosion. After that column had been published, I read an article in the Toronto Star about how many televi- sion stations were swamped with calls from viewers complaining that their afternoon soap operas had been pre- empted by coverage of the disaster that killed seven astronauts. Frankly, I couldn't believe it, and I hope you all share my horror at the unfeeling nature of these people. One lady actually called a station and said, "*Yes, it's a tragedy all right ... I can't watch As The World Turns."' Arthur Black \ "WY you be my VALENTINE °' CANADA'S TOURISM PITCH --- ---. S wo My mind reels with shock and rage at such comments. Almost as bad are those who feel it is a waste to spend billions on space exploration while people in Ethiopia are starving to death. Good grief, what about the billions that are being spent on the arms race? If just a por- tion of this incredible outlay was directed towards the problem, it would almost certainly be solved in time. Besides, I couldn't even begin to tell you about the many, many wonderful things the space program have given us over the years, in- cluding a number of direct benefits for those in Africa and elsewhere. Ah, but I promised to talk to you this week about smoking and smokers, and I wouldn't want to disappoint you. I have always been an aggressive non-smoker, almost to the extent of being an anti-smoker, but a recent-editorial in a newspaper which shall remain nameless actual- ly got me smokin' (but not literally, of course). I wish I could give you the chance to read the entire editorial. Then you would quickly realize why I am so upset but its bunch of ill-conceived, blatantly defensive, arrogant statements. But, as I have a limited amount of space here, I am only able to present a few choice lines, like these: '"'The (non-smoking) movement has marched ahead with zealous con- tempt for the rights of the individual. Now it is all right to ostracize a smoker simply because he chooses to exercise his right as a' human being to engage in a pleasurable pastime ... As well, instead of spending fortunes on a campaign to make passengers aware of the smoking ban on airlines, wouldn't it be more in keeping with public security to use the money to protect airports from various life- threatening circumstances?" I guess somebody should remind the person who wrote the laughable comments above that smoking itself . is a life-threatening circumstance, both to smokers and to those of us who are smart enough not to indulge in what is surely the most stupidest "pastime" of supposedly modern man (even ahead of watching soap operas). If you want to smoke, fine. Die of cancer or emphysema for all I care. Just don't you dare talk to me about how I am denying your right to smoke while at the same time you are denying me the right to breathe fresh air and to live a healthy life. The editorial concludes **To ban smoking is, not only an infringement on an individual's rights, it is also barbaric." Oh, so I guess it is less barbaric to fill the workplace with proven carcinogens, hmmm? If you want to talk about "in- dividual rights," how about my right to jump into my Ford Torino and mow down some smokers? After all, you are killing me, aren't you? Think about that, and I'll see you next week (assuming I don't keel over of in- voluntary lung cancer before then!). Holiday Fat: a concept for Watching daytime television is definitely not for everyone. Indeed, you could make a fairly good case for the proposition that watching daytime television is not for anyone. I'm pretty sure that prolonged TV exposure does for the human brain what prolonged exposure to Export Plain Ends can do for the human lungs. Still, watching TV in the daytime can be illuminating in total- ly unexpected ways. Yesterday, for instance, I caught a nutritionist chat- tering away on television about the latest health problem to best North Americans. She called it '"'Holiday Fat."' Holiday Fat. What a perfect con- cept for The Eighties! The name describes the condition perfectly. Holiday Fat is the excess suet that North Americans traditional- ly pack on their already overloaded carcasses by doggedly vacuuming up all the egg nog, fruitcake and extra servings of turkey with all the trim- mings they can wrap their pudgy lips around during the week of orgiastic gorging that separates Christmas Day from New Year's Day. Caloric ex- cess is not strictly limited to that seven-day period, of course. It slops over at both ends with pre-Yuletide and post New Year's office parties and neighborhood get-togethers, not to mention rendezvous with perogy- laden visitors from the old home town. But then food isn't the only thing that disappears during the holiday season. We also abandon the fine old maxims that we at least pay lip ser- vice to the rest of the year. Maxims like: "One second on the lips, forever on the hips" and "the best form of physical exercise is pushing your chair away from the dinner table."' We forget such folk wisdom during the holiday season. Later for that fuddy-duddy stuff, we tell ourselves. I should clear something up before I go any further. You are not listen- ing to a Holier-Than-Thou lecture from the Lean Machine here. I'm as big a glutton as any sinner at the groaning board. Granted, I have something in my wardrobe from my high school days that I can still slip into. Trouble is, it's a kimono. The problem with the concept of Holiday Fat is that it opens another ugly door -- the gateway to a con- tinental obsession. North Americans are not content with the condition of Holiday Fatness. It whips them into a Thinness Frenzy. Thus, it is that for the 97 per cent of the year when we are not pigging out on holidays, we are in hot pursuit of the Enlightened State of Skinniness. It's true! We have Weight Wat- chers, Dancercize and Thursday Evening Keep Fit Classes at the 'Y'. We have color-coordinated sweat suits, $90 jogging sneakers and hydra-headed Nautilus machines down at the corner gym. We have Scarsdale, Beverly Hills, Hilton, Pritikin, Hollywood and the Drinking Man's Diet. And for what? What's the point? To be slim? Just a couple of genera- tions ago the very stereotype of pro- the 80's sperity and success was a solid paunch stuffed into a vest with a gold chain stretched across it. Not any more. Nowadays we recognize that look as pure coronary thrombosis- ville. We don't go for that. Instead, we cultivate the emaciated look of a Gulag inmate. We are becoming food-o-phobics. We spurn sugar in favor of some dubious lab concoction called Nutrasweet. We choose margarine over butter, dessicated wedges of cardboard called melba toast over good thick slabs of homemade bread. We drink Diet Coke and Diet Pepsi. We even let the breweries water down their beer, and sell it to us as os ot eee The irony is that we're turning anti- food at a time when there's never been so much of the stuff around. We've got so much food that our farmers can afford to dump tankloads of milk and truckloads of potatoes on the steps of Queen's Park to score political points. We've got so much food that our politicians can afford to stockpile tons of butter, rafts of cheese and moun- tains of wheat to keep those prices up. We've got so much food in this province that soup kitchens in Mon- treal and Toronto can actually operate on the food that city restaurants throw into the garbage every day. Why we've got so much food in this country that a nationally respected nutritionist can get time on television to talk about the problem of Holiday Fat. It's a weird phenomenon, alright. I'm just thankful that I don't have to try and explain it to an Ethiopian.