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Page 4, Terrace Bay-Schreiber News, Wednesday, May 21, 1986 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. ADVERTISING CNR ee 8 a Ss ke Oe ae + ee Conrad Felber ah aia oss Se ye cee pana. Gigi Dequanne a nn pee koe he ee es ee Gayle Fournier PRODUCTION MANAGER be Gia et SSPE Mary Melo Single copies 35 cents Subscription rates per year in-town -- $14.00 out-of-town -- $18.00 Member of Ontario Community Newspapers Association and The Canadian Community Newspapers Association. Fair is fair (Third in a series of three editorials on the situation at the Kimberly-Clark pulp mill in Terrace Bay:) Much has taken place since Kimberly-Clark Chair- man of the Board and Chief Executive Officer Darwin E. Smith made his speech about the Terrace Bay pulp mill and the economic problems it is experiencing. A Council of area Reeves has been created, with its first face-to face meeting set for June 3 to discuss the matter. Ontario New Democratic Party leader Bob Rae even stopped in town to meet with K-C union representatives, and Township Council. The real problem is, all of these outside efforts to help out or even just to look into the dilemma at the mill are, for the most part, a complete waste of time, energy, and money. One can hold meetings after meetings, but they won't be very constructive since they will all be one-sided. Kimberly-Clark has decided that it is their problem and that they will handle it on their own. As Smith said himself, 'It's in the hands of your local management...(and) until we complete our work, we will make no further comment to the news media' about the status of our work."' But is that fair? This is not a case of a small mill in a big town, but a big mill in a small town, which means any changes it goes through will have that much more of an effect on the entire community. We all deserve to be kept up to date, moment by moment. Is that too much to ask? I wanted to start off this week with a public thank you to a certain fami- ly in Terrace Bay. Following my re- cent column on Christian rock music, they went to the time and trouble of preparing a cassette of tunes by groups I neglected to mention in that column, even though those artists are much more religious in nature com- pared to the few that I discussed (e.g. U2, The Waterboys, Simple Minds, ect.). Thing is, I didn't mention those other ones because I had never heard of them before. Well, nobody's perfect. Of course, you must under- stand that the bands I did talk about are very popular and have albums on sale all over the place, even right here in Terrace Bay and Schreiber, whereas these other artists that the local family exposed me to are Black N' Whi By Arthur Black I was just thinking back to a cou- ple of hours I spent in a tavern one afternoon about 15 years ago, sipp- ing a cold one as I watched U.S. President Richard Nixon on the fuz- zy TV screen suspended over the bar. The fervent and life-long anti- Communist seemed to be tossing back a few cold ones himself. Only difference was that he was on the other side of the world -- in China, where he'd gone to officially bestow recognition on the most populous na- tion on the planet. There was more than a little grumbling along the bar as patrons watched the most famous five o'clock shadow in history smil- ing and bobbing in a sea of attentive Chinese dignitaries. '"Why'd he wan- na go and reckanize China?"- grous- ed one of the clientele. An ad salesman at the other end of the bar summed it up in seven words as he reached for the beer nuts. "One billion toothbrushes' said the salesman, "and two billion armpits."' Ah, salesmen. Whether you love 'em or loathe 'em you can't help but admire their mercenary single- WALL FALLOUT FROM THAT FAILED WEATHER SATELLITE BE NEXT 2 relatively unknown to people who don't follow them religiously (pardon the pun). Anyway, if any of you are in- terested, these obscure Christian singers include folks like Steve Taylor, Leon Patillo, Petra, Sheila Walsh, and groups like Stryper, WhiteHeart, David and the Giants, and so on. If you are really interested, just let me know and Ill give you an address or two you can write to for more information. Ok, so much for that. Moving on now, we come to, at long last, the premiere instalment of Stupid Post Office Rules! Our first Stupid Rule this week is a new one, which changes the long-standing tradition of postage-free change of address cards. No more! Now if you want to send Aunt Agnes or Cousin Fd your new address, you'll have to stick a 34 cents stamp on each card. Yet every week the P.O. continues to send me some column on stamp collecting, by Special Delivery yet, which I don't even use! But wait! I've got another Stupid Rule for you. Photographers out there have found this one out the hard way. Thanks to changes in the postal regulations which came into effect a year or so ago, it now costs well over a buck to send a single roll of 35mm slide film to the Kodak labs down south to get processed. This makes no sense at all. I can see charging a little over the regular letter amount, but this is just ridiculous. I suppose, though, that the Post Office people have a few beefs of their own to register. Maybe I'll ask them for these and include them next week...or maybe not (ah, the power of the press). I will, however, heed a request from a Terrace Bay merchant and briefly discuss the shoplifting situa- tion in town, which is appartently get- ting out of hand at a few stores in particular. I don't know what's going on here. Maybe the troublesome kids (and adults) who indulge in this disturb- ing habit believe they aren't hurting anyone by pocketing a pen or a can- dy bar, but the fact of the matter is they are harming everyone, including themselves. A few words won't stop these thieves, but I feel I should say something about it here. You crooks know who you are, and in many cases we know who you are too. Stop shoplifting now, because sooner or later you will get caught, and then you'll wish you had listened to me. Finally, I wish to clear up a bit of a misconception here, one that is especially held by the younger folks out there. Believe me, appearances can be deceiving. I am not as young as you may think I am. I won't bother telling you my actual age (mainly because most of you won't believe me), but more than a few of you seem to believe I am fresh out of college, if not high school. That is not the case, OK? On that rather bizarre note I think I'll take my leave. See you next week (even if it's just to find out if I run yet another photograph of Police Chief Russ Phillips)! mindedness. Other observers might see the Chinese/American accord as a breakthrough for world peace and understanding, a chance to connect with an ancient and mysterious culture. Not my salesman. To him it was just one huge untapped market yet to discover the delights of oral hygiene and body odour control. A motherlode of potential sales comis- sions longer than the Great Wall itself. I've always had a perverse fascina- tion with the Art of Selling and I don't know why, because I'm utterly rot- ten at it. As an Encyclopedia salesman I lasted exactly one even- ing. In my callow youth I put in a few months as a newspaper advertising salesman. I'm reasonably certain I was the very worst representative they ever had. I just couldn't whip up the kamikaze upbeatness--the almost psychotic optimism good salesmen seem to radiate. What put me in this reminiscent mood was a tiny item I saw in a news magazine about a rather unexpected American sales success last year. You'll never guess what the U.S. sold $20 million worth of to Japan in 1985. Television tubes. You read right. Japan, which has dominated the North American television market for at least the past decade, is now buying TV parts from a plant in San Diego. Betcha a 21-inch full-colour Panasonic there's a hotshot salesman behind that deal. Somebody like Joe Girard, maybe. Joe Girard? He is possibly the most successful car salesman ever to don a fluorescent-green checked sports jacket. He used to work in Michigan- -and 'work' is the operative word. Girard won the Number One Car Salesman Award for 11 straight years, and we are not talking about selling cars by the fleet or on consign- ment. Joe Girard moved cars one at a time -- "belly to belly"-- as he call- ed it. He sold 174 cars one month. In his best year he flogged 1,425 of them. His lifetime total: 13,001. Joe Girard retired eight years ago- -from the retail auto business, but not from selling. Nowadays he works the lecture circuit and plugs his book, How To Sell Anything To Anybody. It's a best-seller,natch. Which reminds me of my favourite salesman-as-hustler story. It concerns a young aggressive fellow--let us call him Frankie Grice--who is eager to make his name as a Hollywood press agent (a salesman by another name). . Our hero has what it takes--a brand new office just off Sunset Boulevard. He has Art Nouveau bric a brac on the walls and designer furniture all over the place. He's got two telephones on a black onyx desk as wide as an aircraft carrier. On the floor he's got broadloom so deep that short people couldn't cross the room without a lifeboat. Frankie Grice has it all, except for one thing. A client. Frankie Grice is brand new to the game and he could dearly use a client. But look! There's one now, coming through the door! In- tuitively, Frankie grabs his phones, one in each hand. "No!"' barks Frankie into one receiver, "Absolute- ly not! Redford is all wrong for the part! I can live with Pacino or even Stallone, but if you go with Redford, I'll pull Streisand and Hoffman out immediately, understand?" Covering the phone with his palm, Frankie whispers to the vistor at the door "'Sorry...I've got Bob Altman on one line and Tokyo on the other, I'll be with you in a minute."' Into the Tokyo phone, Frankie growls: "Look, I toldja I wanna book the biggest stadium ya got in Japan, okay? Forty, fifty thousand seats minimum. I'm throwing a little par- ty for my friends. Awright,see what you can come up with and get back to me today!' Slamming down the phones, Frankie cranks up his thousand megawatt smile and says to the visitor in front of the desk, "Sorry about the calls...now what can Frankie Grice do for you?" And the visitor says: "I just came to hook up your phones Mister Grice."'