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editor's choice Editorial Winter by HARRY HUSKINS "Lo, the level lake And the glories of the winter moon." Alfred, Lord Tennyson Tennyson wrote those lines describing the death of King Arthur. He certainly never saw a frozen lake in northern Ontario,-but in many ways his lines are more appropriate describing a midnight walk along the shores of Lake Superior or across the frozen expanse of Walker's, or Hays, or of the Little Steel. This has been one of the finest winters in recent memory. New Year's Day brought it in and this is a writer who spent that day in the bush. There was not a breath of wind, there were four inches of new fallen light snow weighing down the evergreens, and there was a brilliant sunlight reflecting off the snow and creating deep shadows along the highest of those stark granite ridges. It was the kind of day that almost makes you want winter to stay a bit longer. The temperatures have been unseason- ably warm, with some minor exceptions. We have had a couple of storms but they haven't lasted any longer than a day and have provided us with snow that makes a skier's heart warm and his hand reach for the lightest wax he can find. Making some time to enjoy what is around us is usually worth the effort, but this winter it can be downright rewarding. Curling, hockey and all the winter sports are drawing renewed interest. People seem to be slowing things down and making time to enjoy themselves. The season has its drawbacks. Cars won't start and driveways need shovelling. Driveways that always seem to be re-filled ten minutes later by town crews who discover that they are a convenient place to dump all the snow they have been gathering from the rest of town for the last three hours. (Actually the crews are doing a good job, it just seems that the whole world is out to get you when you are on the receiving end.) There have been some cold days, but nothing like the -40 degrees below for two and a half weeks that we had last year. Those bitterly cold days aren't fun but they do provide a point of reference. "'If we had no winter, the spring would not be so pleasant, If we did not sometimes taste of adversity, Prosperity would not be so welcome."' This winter may serve to balance the scales for last winter and for the summer of 82. The summer that never was. It is the middle of January and we should be half way through winter. Even if the weather turns worse, that should be some comfort. As Shelley says, ' "If winter comes, can spring be far behind?' (Let's hope not.) Arthur Black Terrace Bay Schreiber 'Serving Terrace Bay, Schreiber and Rossport Ltd. GRANDPA AND ME Published every Wednesday by Laurentian Publishing Box 579, Terrace Bay, Ontario TELEPHONE: 825-3747 Deadline: Friday, 5:00 p.m. Subscription rates: $10.00 per annum (local) Win. Campbell $14.00 per annum (out-of-town) Clem Downey Second Class Mail Registration No. 0867 Mary Hubelit Anne Todesco Editor: Harry Huskins Features Editor: Judie Cooper Business Manager: Diane Matson Production Manager: Mary Melo Receptionist Carol Koshowski member of Contributing Editors BY MARK TURRIS You SURE ATE I AM.ITISA A Lot AT NEW ONE. (15 SUPPER, GOT ONLY ONE IL THOUGHT GUIDELINE. You WERE ON A Diet 7! \ 4 7 eg (a (pi WHAT 15 IT? PL Don't EAT ANYTHING You CAN'T LIFT. roe *S atte Qe?» ISS a af (ne | mil the J. TWweeis Shirley Whittington The drive-in winner We have become a nation of raffle rousers. Canada is sweepstake-mad, lottery-happy, baby-take-a-chance-country, and the skill- testing question has suddenly assumed the importance of the Rosetta Stone. A correct answer to that question may hold the key to happiness and great wealth. .This is the Puritan ethic at its starchiest. Its"okay to win an all-expense weekend for two aboard a Hong Kong sampan but an- swering that STQ proves that you're more than just another lucky lightweight, The STQ is the final hurdle between you and the gas barbecue, the Chevvy Malibu or the year's supply of Froot Loops. Thus do you announce to the world that you have earned your prize with awesome brain power, not sheer luck. i Last week I won a game of chance but the prize almost eluded me. I just about blew the STQ. Here's what happened. Our local gas station is running a promotion in which cards are handed out to customers. The front surfaces-of these cards are strewn with little diamonds. You scratch two of the diamonds, and if a couple of matching symbols emerge under your shaking fingernail, you're a winner. 'Careful 'scratching and good luck could earn the player a car, a trip to Hawaii, some cash or any one of a number of electronic toys. It's a harmless game and it gives motorists something to do with their hands while their lifesavings are draining into the gas tanks of their cars. Last week, I won. As I scratched the cover off the first diamond, the symbol "$1"' made a coy appearance. And a matching "$1"" lay under the next diamond | scratched. This is no trip to Hawaii, but one Canadian dollar is better than a kick in the head. Not much, but better. It will buy coffee and a doughnut. or a carbohydrate bar stuffed with almonds, or a skinny magazine. I was delighted. I called-the station attendant--a young man I've known since he was knee-high to a hub-cap--and waved my freshly scrat- ched card at him. 'I won!" I cried. He grinned his congratulations, clicked his ballpoint pen into action, and passed it th rough the car window. 'You have to fill out the information on the back, eh?" he said. He added. "Then you have to answer a skill. testing question." Guess what the Sunoco people wanted to know? My name, my address and my age. . One might have expected a gas and oil company to wonder about my car, its make, size, age and so on. But it was information of a more personal nature they wanted, and you can bet I'll add that dollar onto my taxable income next April. There's no telling where those vital stats may end up. : '"'Now--let's have that skill testing question,"' I said to my curly haired friend as I handed back his pen. "It's on the card," he said. I looked and my heart sank. A skill testing question? To me it looked more like the entrance exam to the Harvard Business School. "Add 55 + 25," it went. "Multiply x 8. Subtract 40. Divide by 6." I was suddenly awash with that sick dread that used to attack me in grade five arith- Vigliotto revisited metic drills. | needed three things to complete that assignment correctly--a_ pocket calculator, total solitude and half an hour. But how do you admit this to a friendly curly-headed chap who knows how old you are? I struck a confident facade. 'Let's see-- fiftyfive plus twenty-five..that's um...ten, and carry the one, and that's six..no seven..."' I could feel the panic rising. I turned the car radio off--too distracting. "Ahnn..." | whimpered. "Could 1 borrow your pen again?" I got the answer. I'll never tell how. That's a better-kept secret than my age, which by now every Sunoco dealer in North America knows. They gave me my dollar and I rushed out to spend it on something sticky and fattening. Unanswered questions remain. Who makes up these STQ's anyway? Why are those questions always in the mathematical area and not in the area of movie stars or musical comedy. where those of us who are innumerate often excel? Don't they realize that people with a mathematical bent--that is. people who can handily add 55 and 25, multiply by 8, subtract 40 and divide by 6--are usually too smart to be anything but independently wealthy. Meanwhile, I had my doughnut and coffee on the Sunoco people, and I figured something out. I was in that gas station for ten minutes grappling witb that skill testing nightmare. This works out to a wage of about six dollars an hour. I didn't win that dollar, I earned it, at what some might consider starvation wages. Marc Lalonde is right. The days of the free lunch are over. Remember Giovanni Vigliotto? No, it's not a Sicilian castle or an Italian pasta treat. It's a name that popped up in this space back in September of last year. That's when the news came out of Florida that one Giovanni Vigliot- to had become a full-time guest in the Panama City House of Cor- rections. Giovanni was doing time as a result of a complaint from his wife. His eighty-third wife, the news story said. Well, it turns out the news story didn't give old Giovanni his due. Wasn't his eighty-third wife at all. More like his 100th. Or so. Nobody's absolutely sure exactly how many times Giovanni's tied the knot. Giovanni's out of the Panama City jail now. They moved him to Phoenix Arizona so he could stand trial on charges from an- other "wife." In the course of his defence, Vigliotto's lawyer admit- ted there is no dispute that his client "went through wedding ceremonies with more than a hundred women in the past few years." Now what kind of a man pitches woo to 100 (or so) women -- consecutively, if not simultane- ously? Not only pitches woo, but even walks them up the aisle to say their vows? His lawyer claims Vigliotto is "in love with life, with women and-with marriage' -- but that's forking it on a little thick, even for a lawyer. There would appear to be at least two other things that Vigliot- to has a passion for -- the open road and other people's money. You see, to achieve his specta- cular rate of turnover, Giovanni didn't just have to get married a lot of times ... He had to skip out a lot of times too. And that he did. empty-handed. Wife number 83 (or whatever) -- the one who nailed Giovanni in Florida -- had been tracking him for three months. Ever since he lett her broke and barefoot in a motel parking lot. She claims Giovanni took $100,000 of her money when he slipped away. Seldom Giovanni, not surprisingly, can't remember a thing about it. As'a matter of fact Giovanni seerfis tb be getting a_ little flustéred§ He's already fired his lawyér ofce, claiming he prefer- red¢to r¢present himself. Then, one @ayybefore his trial, Giovanni told the judge he'd like to re-hire his lawyer after all, Why? The strain of self-defence was too great, said Giovanni. Besides, he'd been in mental hospitals eight times already, and he didn't want to risk a ninth visit. He won't have to worry about that. Not for a while anyway. He's charged with bigamy and fraud -- litigious and lengthy charges both. Giovanni Vigliotto's day in court may turn out to be more like months. Even years. And that's just for the one 'wife'. Wait'll news of -- his marital accomplishments spreads. Somewhere in the world there are 99 (or so) other women who may be turning on their radios or opening the newspaper to read about Giovanni. And mutter: 'Why, that's the S.0.B. who marricd me in 19742 In a few weeks, Giovanni Vigliotto may consider a visit to a mental institulion positively at tract ive.