Ontario Community Newspapers

Terrace Bay News, 3 Apr 1990, p. 4

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

Page 4, News, Tuesday, April 3, 1990 TS Editorial The Terrace Bay-Schreiber News is published every Tuesday by Laurentian Publishing Limited, Box 579, 13 Simcoe Plaza, Terrace Bay, Ont., POT-2WO Tel.: (807)-825-3747 Fax (807)-825-9233. Second class mailing permit 2264. Member of the Ontario Community Newspaper Assn. and the Canadian Community Newspaper Assn. radius); $36 in U.S. OOOO Advertising Rep.......... Sheryl A. Knight ~~ copies 40 sae Publisher............. A. 'Sandy' Harbinson * CNA ubscription rates: per . ; year / seniors $10 (local); Office Managet....... fies Gayle Fournier = $27 per year (out of 40 mile News Editor................. Angie Saunders _e Canada leaves good impression I returned home to Portage la Prairie to visit last weekend while the World Junior Curling Championship was taking place. The city of over 13,000 people welcomed young people from all over the world to the yearly event that it was lucky enough to be chosen for. Scotland, Italy, Germany, and Norway, to mention a few countries, were represented by avid young curlers who flew thaousands of miles to compete for the World Championship in Canada. Switzerland won the gold beating Sweden in the men's finals. The women's 1st place winners were Scotland who overcame Sweden to bring the gold home. On Friday, March 23, I visited the local nightclub, Club West, and found it to be packed to capacity with young curlers dancing and socializing. Though the Club has been open for about 5 years, I'd never seen people having such a great time. This amazed many of the locals since a good majority of the foreigners spoke different languages. A Winnipeg band called 'Shivers' entertained the wild crowd, who despite being from different cultures, loved the music. Rock music is enjoyed universally I guess. Even though the foreign bunch dressed differently, and some knew virtually no English, it's nice to know they were just like the young folk in Canada enjoying pizza, McDonalds, Coke, dancing, and Rock music. All countries combined had a fantastic time all week. Portage la Prairie left an impression on a lot of young people who know now what a great country Canada is. Angie Saunders see AN! THis ONE | \s\uusT RIGHT fi! * Uy/ _ GORBYLOCKS AND THE THREE BEARS ~ Letter to the Editor ~ Dear Editor; On July 20th and 21st, 1990 the Village of Oil Springs will be celebrating its 125th Anniversary. We would like to invite all former residents, friends and relatives to join in the festivities. Highlights of the Celebrations will include a Hometown Reunion, Dances, Parade, Entertainment, Oil Field Tours and various Exhibits and dis- plays. The theme of the Celebrations will be the 1800's. Anyone interested in finding out more about the 125th Anniversary of the Village of Oil Springs: may ..,.comtact the Municipal Clerk's Office, P.O Box 22, Oil Springs, Ontario, NON 1P0. Sincerely, Owen Byers, Reeve Village of Oil Springs A job for the victims of Glastnost I'm thinking of picking up a batman. Stand easy, Animal Rightsters! I'm not talking about a pest exterminator and I'm certainly not referring to the winged hero of that recent overhyped movie by the same name. I'm talking about the British version of batman. Back in the days when Old Blighty was an imperial power to be reckoned with, British officers did their duty accompanied by a wee servant chappie whose job it was to make the officer as com- 'fortable as possible under the circumstances--brew his tea, make sure his helmet was properly ironed--that sort of thing. The British batman was a kind of front-line valet/maid /cheerleader/mother--Don Quixote had Sancho Panza, the Lone Ranger had Tonto, George Bush has Brian Mulroney... And I want one of my own. Let's face it--it's been years since my mother brought me tea or laid out my clothes for echool and my Significant Other all but snaps my head off if I even so much as suggest that I deserve to be waited on hand, foot and backrub. And the kids? Forget it. Assigning them batman duties would mean a whole new chapter in their allowance contract, not to mention augmented cost of living allotment, retirement benefits and sick pay provisions. Besides, they'd only be available for a half hour a day-- between Cheers and Let's Make a Deal. Nope, there's not much hope of finding my batman on the local labour front. I'll have to look overseas. Fortunately, my timin couldn't be better. Right now, there's an absolute glut of people with batman (let's be fair: batperson) potential flooding the European market. Needy people. Desperate people. Trained and clever and available people. Spies. Well...ex-spies, really. The recent political convulsions over there have left millions of East Europeans in turmoil, most of them euphoric, but many of them...less so. Before the Big Thaw, hundreds of thousands of folks behind the Iron Curtain earned their daily bread in that time- honoured, traditional com- munist way--by spying and informing on their friends and neighbours. Gorby and his infernal Glasnost wiped out that lucrative way of life practically overnight. Today, the streets of every back European hamlet from Aachen, Germany to Zagreb, Yugos- lavia are clogged with nervous, weaselly-looking men and women in shabby trenchcoats and dark glasses, crouched in dark doorways or hunched over cafe tables, eagerly begging for the chance to sell one tiny secret, whisper one unsub- stantiated rumour, betray one ' minor relative--anything to keep their professional dignity intact. And there are lots of them. East Germany alone had 85,000 agents and 109,000 regular informants. This in a country with a population slightly more than half Canada's. In the other ex-soviet satellites it's the same story. Thousands of hardworking turncoats sacked without so much as a letter if recom- mendation. But it's not all bleak. Think of the talents these ex-spies could bring to the job of batman. Locked myself out of the house? These guys could slip the front door deadbolt with a forged credit card quicker than you can say Kim Philby. Car won't start? Any half decent spy could hotwire my Toyota blindfolded before tea. Oh, it'll be grand, having my very own ex-secret-agent-cum- batman. Great family portraits of course--after all, these guys cut their photographic teeth on microfilm and infra red, shooting top-secret documents on cameras small enough to hide up your nose. Great cocktails (Remember Bond? "A martini...extra dry...shaken, not stirred.") Great after- dinner gossip too. "Why I remember the time that Kruschev asked my advice about Castro. 'Nick, sweet- heart,' I said, 'the guy's a bush hippy. Cut 'im loose'..." Oh, I can hardly wait. I want my ex-undercover bat- man now. Send one over, Europe--I'll be waiting. On the third bench in from the main park entrance. I'll be wearing a single earring, reading a copy of Macleans upside down and whistling the Third Man Theme. Off key.

Powered by / Alimenté par VITA Toolkit
Privacy Policy