Terrace Bay Public Library Digital Collections

Terrace Bay News, 20 Aug 1986, p. 4

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Page 4, Terrace Bay-Schreiber News, Wednesday, August 20, 1986 Tehrelser 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. Single copies 35 cénts Subscription rates per year in-town -- $14.00 re ee gt, Se ee ae Conrad Felber 'out-of-town -- $18.00 REVERTIOING: =<). 3 Se SS SS eee Ron Mott Member of ecnee Sete ya OFFICE 3... = See is a ee Gayle Fourtier< Neetparers Asseciotion-ore The Gua e ty N b PRODUCTION MANAGER..............................5. Mary Mele: gestern at Milk shake Lake Nipigon MPP Gilles Pouliot should certainly ~ be commended for his recent actions on behalf of the people in his riding and in the rest of the province. For example, he has continued in his battle to reduce the price of gasoline for northern consumers. He is to be thanked for that and everything else that he has done. However, sometimes Pouliot falls into that old politi- cian's trap of speaking first and thinking later. This seems to be the case with his stand on the price of milk in the North Shore area. Pouliot recently claimed that milk prices here are 100 per cent over the price of milk in Thunder Bay. This may or may not be so, but before condemning the milk producers and only the milk pro- ducers, he should have looked into the matter a little more. It seems some Thunder Bay stores sell their milk as a oe) "loss-leader, or below the actual cost, just to attract customers. That's just one reason for the price difference which Pouliot did not mention. Maybe next time he'!] do a little more research before he again cries "J'accuse!"' at what just might be an innocent party. By Conrad Felber I have a problem. I drink beer. No, that's not my problem (though some of you may think it is). The real diff- iculty lies with what happens after I've gone through all of the bottles in my case and I have to return the emp- ties to get my deposit. The first time this happened to me in Terrace Bay, I was in for quite a suprise. The place I bought the beer from in the first place wouldn't ac- cept my case of bottles. The friendly folks at the LCBO informed me that if I wanted to get my deposit, I would have to schlep all the way to the other end of town to some other office. So off I went to this fabled spot, only I couldn't find it! After quite a search, I finally did locate the place...but it wasn't open! I didn't get my deposit then or even since then, Black N' Whit By Arthur Black The way I see it, there are only two great curses of modern time: the brassiere clasp and grass. And of the two, I would judge grass to be the greater affliction . Brassiere hooks after all, bedevil only 50 percent of the human race (well, them and their close personal friends). But grass? Oh my friend, grass is everybody's problem. I speak here of lawn grass -- the stuff that grows. around my housse and yours. Grows and grows and grows and grows. Ever wonder how you'd explain the bizarre S$ & M rela- tionship between humans and their lawn grass to, say, a visiting Martian? '*Well, you see Zweedont, we Homo Sapiens like to coax and nurture this common garden variety weed until it flourishes around our domiciles. We don't mind how much fertilizer or mulch or herbicide it takes, nor how many 20-dollar-an-hour visits from the Weedman it calls for. We want the stuff to grow. Then after we've spent hundreds of dollars and thousands of self-hours getting said grass to grow fasst and thick and lush as African savannah, we love to Te Common ans Weald Games as that first episode so disturbed me I have yet to try again. Thing is, I haven't stopped buying beer, so now I've got a dozen or so cartons of emp- ties in the trunk of my car and still no deposit (hence, the problem). This is a pretty pathetic situation we have here (and, apparently, also in Schreiber). I realize that space is at a premium at both LCBO outlets, but having the bottle return some- place else only encourages people to just leave their empties on the side of the road (or worse). In fact, the Ter- race Bay LCBO had to put up a sign on their door recently to inform pot- ential customers that returns are-not accepted at that store. I don't think we should be forcing our valued tourists to hunt around merely to return a few empties. That just isn't very hospitable, and it's even a pain for us. At the very least, both LCBOs should put up signs and instructions to show their patrons ex- actly where and when they can bring their empties. This isn't much of a solution, but it seems to be the only feasible one, unless you want to become a wine connoisseur instead! On a more serious note, all of this alcohol talk has reminded me that booze is still legal to purchase and consume (at least it was last time I checked) while marijuana, for some inexplicable reason, remains legally unsanctioned here. This is a real modern tragedy. Here's why. First of-all, there are our antiquated pot and hashish drug laws, which are being blamed for creating 20,000 new young criminals every year. I must agree with Patricia Erickson of the Addiction Research Foundation, who said recently that the harm in saddl- ing these youngsters with a criminal record for life outweighs any deter- rent benefits (if any even exist). Secondly, what makes marijuana any worse than tobacco or alcohol? The only difference is that pot re- mains illegal. Some will say that's because the use of cannabis leads to harder drugs. Studies have shown this is simply not the case. In fact, most pot users do not even go on to regular marijuana use (believe it or not). Legalizing the production, sale, and use of marijuana would have some bad side effects, to be sure. But, if nothing else, just try to imagine how much the provincial and federal governments would earn from taxes if pot could be sold alongside regular cigarettes. This revenue could go towards fighting the really dangerous drugs, like crack (that new, potential- ly lethal form of cocaine). But as things are now, many of us are risking a prison sentence or a heavy fine for doing something which is not all that terrible and is even socially acceptable, to a degree. It is therefore obviously time we legaliz- ed, or at least decriminalized, mari- juana. Using pot may be bad for your health, but J would sooner smoke up than get locked up! spend even more time and money on lawnmovers and edgers and whipper- snippers to ensure taht it never gets longer than a nap of a Marine private'e haircut."' ' Any self-respecting Martian could only shake his antennae in bewilder- ment and blast off to try his luck in some other, saner galaxy. Strangely though, we humans don't seem to find anything odd in our ongoing love affair with the lawn. We go right ahead buying lawnmowers and grass seed, fertilizers and weed suppressants. We go mano a mano with crabgrass and June bug larvale year after year, wasting otherwise perfectly decent summers tending grass when we could be gainfully unemployed, lolling in a hammock, sstirring a G & T with our thumb as we listen to the ball game on the radio. I'm a prime offender. I.have as a matter of fact just come in from my umpteenth assault on the front lawn this season. Mine enemy is -- briefly -- tamed. It's locks have been shorn. No insolent dancing dandelion deads remain to mock me. My deathdeal- ing juggernaut, the Toro Lawnmaster, squats in the garage, still hissing and reeking from its labours. I'm in the house, up to my fibulae in grass clippings, all wet and sweaty and more than a tad reedy myself. Do I feel triumphant? Victorious? Ever so slightly Alexander the Greatish? Nope. I feel like a fool. Because I know that in less than-a week I'm going to have to do it all over again. I've considered alternatives -- green. gravel...a_ carpet -- of wildflowerss...aback to nature policy of benign neglect. Only one thing keeps me from adopting any or all of the above game plans. Abject cowardice. I'm terrified of Erna, the lady I bought the place form a couple of years back. Before she accepted our offer, Er- ha insisted on a tour of the front lawn. She wanted to make sure that I understood that this wasn't...just any...front lawn I was buying. She showed me where the legions of dump trucks had lined up to deliver the topsoil which covered the hard- pan clay. she described the intricate patterns the incredibly expensive bulldozer and its even more. in- credibly expensive operator had trac- ed to spread the topsoil in careful, even layers. she sang a long and mournful dirge about the Appalachian range of sod that had to be dismantl- ed and laid out, row upon pain backbreaking row. I just didn't have the gut to say "'Erna, I hate lawns -- I wanna pave its: So I didn't. Instead I assumed the Herculean chore of looking after the stupid, damnable stretchof real estate. like countless other lawnherders, I now spend most of my spare time cut- ting grass, honing lawn mower blades or trudging to the Esso Station with empty gas cans. : Any extra moments I have left over are spent praying for a_ serious drought. But not for mauch longer. my newspaper brings news of a stupefy- ing breakthrough -- blessed deliverance for all of lus lawn- burdened vassals. It tells of an Alberta scientist by the name of Jan Weijer who has developed a new type of grass that re- quires next to no watering or weeding and best of all... : fYou only have to cut it once a summer. Perfect! I tell ya, if I had a shares in a lawn mower company, I'd be sweating in big drops about now. As a matter of fact, I think-perhaps some lawn mower tycoonns may have already mowed a path to Jan Weijer's lab door. Last I heard, it will be six years before the new wonder grass will be auailable to the public. Six years???? For something taht will sell like hotcakes the moment it hits the shelves? give me a break. No matter. A six-year sentence is still better than eternity. Imagine! By 1992 at the latest, we will all finally have our summers off! Free at last! What are we going to do with all that blissful free time? > I don't know about you, but I in- tend to use my extra hours engaged in fruitful research. : Like maybe inventing a decent brassiere clasp for the * efit of future generations.

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