Ontario Community Newspapers

Terrace Bay News, 3 Sep 1986, p. 4

The following text may have been generated by Optical Character Recognition, with varying degrees of accuracy. Reader beware!

Page 4, Terrace Bay-Schreiber News, Wednesday, September 3, 1986 Terrace Bay Schreiber 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 Ron Mott Member Single copies 35 cents Subscription rates per year in-town -- $14.00 EDITOR Se 5 gti es ac at 5 ae gr ia te Se OT Sy rate oe TE Conrad Felber out-of-town -- $18.00 ADVERTISING of Ontario Community Canadian Community Newspapers er a Pe Mary Melo Association. Snes ee ee eee Gayle Fournier Newspapers Association and The Gy Editorial PC's defined invidious /in'videeus/ 1 a. likely to excite ill-will or indignation against the performer, possessor, etc. (in- vidious task, position, honour). 2 a. how one might describe Brian Mulroney and his Progressive Conservative government in Canada. [see also ALOOF, OBNOXIOUS] Yes, if any government has been invidious, not to mention insidious, it would be our present one in Ottawa. Since the election, the PCs have done nothing but harm, and their decision to have a throne speech followed by a new session of Parliament in October won't change a thing. Think about it. Inflation? It is the highest of any Western industrialized country. Compare ours to West Germany's, which is currently a negative inflation rate. Unemployment? It continues to grow, recently almost reaching the 10 per cent mark. Where are all the "jobs, jobs, jobs'" that Mulroney promised during the election campaign two years ago? The deficit? True, some cuts have been made, but they were negligible at best, and at the expense of some necessary programs. Taxes? The rich get richer while the poor get poorer. Scandals? The Conservatives have had their share of them, ranging from bad fish to bad political moves. The worst part of all is that we are stuck with this invidious government for at least another two years. Perhaps our only way out is to pray that US President Ronald Reagan invades us next time! Close To The Edge By Conrad Felber Someone recently said to me that this column of mine leaves the im- pression that I have a chip on my shoulder, that I present a cynical, pessimistic attitude, that I never have anything good to say. Well, Ma, (and the rest of you out there) how can I -answer that except to say that you're right (as usual)? Yes, I do come across as rather an- tagonistic in this space sometimes. I admit it. However, it is not really because I am that way as a person. There is more to it than that. As usual, somebody else said it much better, so allow me to quote some- thing said by a character in Dune Messiah by Frank Herbert: "'You see, I'm not really a cynic. I'm just an observer and commentator." ack N' Whi Since the world is, by and large, a negative place, much of what I write about is negative by consequence, filled with the horror of our times. In that way I am much like the rock group Joy Division (oddly enough, they are one of my personal fav- ourites). I've included below some of the things the music critics wrote about the band five or six years ago, when Joy Division was still together. This should illustrate the comparison: "Joy Division did not avoid severe actualities... Their music was neurotic and insecure, but that is because of the territory in which they dwelt... '*They asked for answers from the impossible question, they obsessive- ly sought justification for that for which they bore no responsibility, A CONFLICT OF INTEREST CASE, FOR SURE / they tried to understand the incom- prehensible (with) cold outrage. Their purpose was not to convey a message, but to arouse strange feelings... "'Bemused, bewildered accept- ance, not despair, was central to Joy Division's ethos. Their songs were editorials, observations of the human condition on this world. Their music was confrontational; it looked life in the eye without flinching or retreating into fantasy. For them, reality--no matter how bleak or oppressive--is better than fantasy." (P.S.: All of the above may sound a bit like a Joy Division commercial ...too bad, then, that you probably won't find a single one of their rec- ords for sale in Northern Ontario!) So there you have it. I hope you can understand where I'm coming from. I feel almost compelled to be brutally honest in this newspaper, especially when it comes to writing this very personal column of mine. But I can also understand what you all mean about how I've become too much the "angry young man.'" From now on I will try to see the good things in life, few and far apart though they may be (eeeps, there I go again). But this column just would not be the same without my famous whining about this or that. It's almost like comedian Jay Leno's '*What's My Beef"' jokes. Speaking of which: WHAT'S MY BEEF!!! My beef this week is you. Wellllll, some of you. See, I've had a few complaints that this newspaper is not coming out as early as it once did. In- stead of Tuesdays, you are all now getting the News on Wednesdays at the earliest (and this week, because of the Labour Day holiday, you won't be reading this until Thursday). I've explained this before, but I guess it's time to say it again...our press deadline was changed some time ago, so now we don't even get the paper here at the office until Wednesday morning at the earliest. Sometimes it doesn't arrive until noon, which was the case over the past few weeks, due to the bus strike in Thunder Bay (see, the News is published and shipped from there). Can you dig it? Good. Bye for now. Supermarket has something for everyone by Arthur Black All the lonely people Where do they all belong from 'Eleanor Rigby' by The Beatles Pssst! Hey you! Yeah, the one in the rose-coloured glasses. Come over here for a second. I want to talk to you about your attitude. So you really think that the Universe is unfolding as it should? You firmly believe that mankind is cakewalking his way, millimetre by treacherous millimetre up the slippery slope towards that big door marked Enlightenment? You actually buy the notion that day by day, in every way, shaggy old Homo Sapiens is getting better and better? Come with me you cock-eyed op- timist. I want to take you on a shop- ping trip to Cherry Hill, New Jersey. We're going to hit the Shop 'N Bag, a supermarket on the outskirts of Cherry Hill. Be sure to wear your flashiest duds -- and don't worry about bringing along your wallet or you charge card because we're not here to buy groceries. At Shop 'N Bag, the clinetele isn't looking to pick up bargains in rutabagas or ground chuck. At this place, the shoppers are trying to sell themselves. Shop 'N Bag is the latest -- and when you think about it the utter logical -- extension of that pathetic in- stitution, The Singles Bar, wherein legions of the lost and terminally lonely line up to sip wine spritzers while they surreptitiously ogle the other customers. They're hoping that the combination of alcohol fumes and indirect lighting can bring them what they think they want: at worst, a warm body. At best, a mate for life. Booze is not one of the in-store specialss offered at Shop 'N Bag, but you don't get very far past the turn- stile before you realize that this is not your average megagroceteria. The first thing you run into is a lady with a smile and a magic marker in her hand. She is ahnding out name tags to all incoming clientele -- the better to start conversations over the fresh fruit counter. "Ahhh...excuse me...Edna Mae, is it? Can you help me out? I'm looking for an eggplant that's really fresh..." There are other contributing factors to the Find-Someone-Before-Closing- Time ambiance. The live disc jockey for instance. He takes requests -- as long as they're romantic. There are special door prizes too, and every once in a while the store puts on in- aisle facsimiles of the Dating Game TV show, not to mention aerobics demonstrations, free cosmetic con- sultations and even a card-carrying astrologer who can whip up your per- sonal erotic horoscope in less time than it takes you to squeeze the Charmin. Singles Shopping. It's a bizarre concept, but does it work? Depends on which side of the cash register you view it from. Prince Choppers Super- markets, the grocery chain that laun- ched the singles consept a year ago, are certainly laughing all the way to the Brinks Truck. A company spokesman Says: "*There are so many people in the stores you can't even park. sometimes police have to be called to direct traffic." Other supermarket chains have noticed the crowds and followed suit. There's a Thriftway store in nearby Plainsboro that's been running a singles promotion every Thursday evening since last spring. The owner says business has umm...picked up, some. By an average of 80 percent per Thursday. Those are the kind of sales figures that no supermarket exec is likely to ignore. Chances are very good that they Singles Shopping phenomenon will spread acrosss the US like. .. well, like Disco, or Madonna fever. Chances are even pretty good that the fad will slop over the 49th parallel and sluice down the aisles of the somewhat more sobre and _ staid supermarkets of Canada. Chances are that one of these Satur- day mornings you'll be piloting your cart down the Sugar, Salt and Flour aisle only to be rear-ended by some bouffant-ed and eyelinered cruiser sporting a HI! I'M MITZI! name tag. Chance are, I guess...but I sure hope not. Personally, I find the ex- perience of supermarket shopping altogether too harrowing already. The prospect of encountering sex amidst the spinach, salad dressing and salami slices is more than this creaky libido cares to contemplate. I think until this Singles Shopping fad blows over, you'll find me cower- ing behind a cart in the lane marked Expresss: Six Items Or Less. I'll be the guy who isn't wearing a name tag.

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