Terrace Bay Public Library Digital Collections

Terrace Bay News, 4 Oct 1989, p. 4

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Page 4 TERRACE BAY/SCHREIBER NEWS Wednesday, October 4, 1989 Editorial Page tis wan a General Managet....... Paul Marcon Sinakncdbies teed he Terrace Bay-Schreiber News is published every Wednes ay by ' ; COF E Laurentian Publishing Limited, Box 579, Terrace Bay, Ont., POT-2Wo Eitor.............s0.0000... David Chmara Subscription rates: $15 per year / $25 two years (local) and $21 per year (out of town). Tel.: 807-825-3747. Second class mailing permit 0867. Member of the Ontario Community Newspaper Assn. and the Canadian Community Newspaper Assn. Fighth inning dramatics bring Jays Pennant Admin. Asst...........Gayle Fournier Production Asst....Carmen Dinner AS AN So, how about those Blue Jays? on \ ANY: That's the question sports announcers, Blue Jays' fans anarae | DON'T KNow), COMRADE, BUT | HEAR \, THERE'S BEEN A LOTTA § = ROLLING AROUND and Canadians alike are echoing this week as the Blue Jays enter the American League Championship Series. The Jays won the American League East Pennant last Saturday in dramatic fashion staging an eighth inning comeback against the Baltimore Orioles. They didn't choke as they did in 1987 against the Detroit Tigers or like they did in 1985 against the Kansas | \ City Royals - although I'm sure many people had these |- past disappointments in the back of their minds. Instead, they proved the pessimists wrong. The Blue Jays entered the final three game series against the Orioles needing to win two of three games to make it to the American East playoffs. Friday night's game was one of those games that you bite your fingernails down to the knuckles. Behind in the eighth inning by one run, the Jays managed to score the | tying run on a wild pitch. After a scoreless ninth, the game went into extra The News welcomes your let- ters to the editor. Feel free to express comments, opinions, innings. Then, in the bottom of the 11th, with a runner on second, the Baltimore coach decided to walk a rookie Blue Jay so they could pitch to a slumping Lloyd Moseby. He stood up to the challenge and cracked the ball just a few feet short of a home run - but it was all the J ays think-it's time something should -- morning to 1 at night. a Ont. P needed to win the game. _ be done about our bus depot. ; We need a place to be able to 13 Simcoe Plaza Saturday's game proved to be equally nerve racking and The location of the bus stop is sit inside where it is warm to wait POT 2W0 exciting. Behind by a score of 3 to 1 in the bottom of the eighth, the Jays had only managed four hits to that point in the game. appreciation, or debate anything doesn't meet traveller's needs Continued on page 5 Dear Editor: As a citizen of this town I way to far from town, the hours which they are open are ridicu- lous and there are no facilities for the public. We need a bus stop where they will be open from at least 7 in the for the bus. We need a place to be able to Continued on page 5 of public interest. Write to: Editor please sign your letters include your phone number. Terrace Bay/Schreiber News So we may verify authorship, and The Cottage Nostal It's over The signs are unmis- takable: aerial formations of robins, blackbirds and warb- lers wheeling and banking in dense commuter clusters above straggling clots of gloomy kids shuffling schoolwards. Trees which maintained a stately green for the past few months are suddenly shooting out snazzy bursts of gold and russet. Some leaves are falling and So is the temperature. Yep, no question about it -- the summer of '89 is definitely victims moon about going "back to the cabin". In other parts of the country they make plans to go "out to camp". Where I come from, folks go "up to the cottage". We Cannucks have been engaged in this cruel charade for decades -- obsessed with the idea that "up there" in the quasi-wilderness, serenaded stereophonically by the eerie ululations of the loons on the lake and the satisfying chuckle of fresh ground coffee perking on the camp stove... I know. I got suckered again this past summer. Rented a cottage for 10 days on a tiny little lake so remote there was no road to it. We had to go in by boat. "You'll love it" I promised unhandy I am until the moment the Evinrude sputtered, then coughed emphysematically and died in the water. Luckily I still retain some rudiments of my early cub scout training -- viz. paddling. Ever paddled a 14-foot aluminium outboard with a week's supplies, a smirking spouse and two terminally bored teenagers? Bet you haven't done it using a cooler lid for a paddle. As things turned out I kind gilacially gia virus struck again on the musty mattresses and Stare at the awesome water Stains on the ceiling. Well, the roof may have leaked but the windows were tight. Swollen shut as a matter of fact. Which was just as well because the screens had rips large enough to accommodate a Stealth bomber. What other praises can I sing -- the stove with two settings: lukewarm and blast furnace? The lake which stayed cold? The refrigerator that didn't? The dock spiders as big as Shrinking in the rear view : a frisbees? The _night- : Everything. = : grr & mirror. wise d ; of wish I'd backpaddled to the marauding raccoons that And not a moment too Perfect. | 2 marina. The cottage door could give Detroit burglars a -- It is to laugh loonishly. , : a creaked open to reveal the few professional pointers? I'm delighted that the : A h afterdregs of what looked like summer of '89 is history. It Cottages are never perfect. rt u a year-long orgy of thousands No. Why open old ry. ; They are never even close. Black of rodents, none of them wounds? I survived the means I don't have to worry about another outbreak of Cottage Nostalgia until at least the spring of '90. Do they have infestations of Cottage Nostalgia where you live? It's a virus that thrives under a variety of aliases. In the mountains, ~ Cottages -- or camps or cabins-or whatever you chose to call them (a ruse by any other name) -- are fiendish, diabolical inventions created by a committee of sadists working under contract for the god of bad jokes. the kids as we bucketed along in a borrowed aluminium Outboard. "Back to nature. Fish right off the dock. Reading by coal lamp." Surly grunts all around. I had forgotten how utterly toilet-trained. The rest of the cottage was -- well, rustic. Pine gum on the kitchen chairs, insects the size of Dinky Toys scurrying across the floor, a hornets nest in the fireplace.. Sometimes when it was quict we would just lie summer of '89 attack of Cottage Nostalgia; that's all that matters. And I'll be eternally grateful if someone would be So kind as to mail me a copy of this column early next spring.

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