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Uh, Uh! Careful now. That chocolate bar you're about to take a bite on contains 270 of those horrible things called calories. " you don't heed this warning and continue munching on the foil wrapped chocolate and caramel delight, it will take you 52 minutes of brisk walking, 33 minutes of bicycling, 24 minutes of swimming or 14 minutes of running to wear it all off. It you dare to wash it down with a soft drink 1 10 oz. ) you are adding insult to injury. It will take you 20 minutes of walking. 13 minutes of bicycling, nine min- utes of swimming or five minutes of running to wear off the additional 105 calories. . In other words that snack you had while watching Lou Grant-or that little something extra you had at your afternoon coffee break, could result in your spending the better part of an hour in a track or swim suit. Add all the goodies you had during the course of a day to the list and you may never wear regular clothes again. According to a fitness wheel, compliments of the Canadian Heart Foundation, "different kinds of physi- cal activity make your body use up or bum calories at different rates. By increasing your body's use of ca- There were three jobs written on my desk calendar pad that had to be done last Satprday. . One was to cover the Conestoga-College annual canoe race. I did that. One was to calculate my income tax and fill in the form. I did that. One was to write as my column a comprehensive analysis of the fiscal policies of tShree federal par- ties. Well. two out of three isn't b . There was a fourth item, and that's what messed up my timing on the rest. I thought it would be nice to spend a little time with my son, whatever it was he found so fascinating on TV. It turned out to be the hockey game. e Perilairs I should explain that I gave up watching NHL hockey years ago when they started watering down the league through expansion, - - . After 40 minutes of last Saturday's Leafs-Canadien game, I decided I probably didn't know enough about anybody"s fiscal policy to write a column. and I'd much rather write one on hockey anyway. I can't tell you who scored the goals because I don't take notes when I'm yelling and screaming. At the end of regulation time-l was exhausted. This was none of that boring stuff I usually glance at before I change channels during the regular season. Don't ever try to tell me that teaching school is a dull life. Oh. it can be pretty gruelling, not to mention gruesome. in Jan. and Feb. But once we get that March break behind us, the whole scene blooms like a riotous garden in May. For one thing. it's spring, And as you walk around the halls of a high school, trying to pry apart couples who are so tightly grooved that you‘re afraid they're going to cave in a row of lockers, you can't help think- ing you were born 20 or 30 years too soon. For another. the cursed snow and ice have gone. or almost, and you know there are only l0 or 11 weeks of martyrdom left until you walk out of that shoe fac- tory, twhich most modern schools resemble) and kiss it goodbye for eight weeks. Then. in the spring, all kinds of things pop up. The drama festival. The teachers vs. students hockey game, in which an assortment of pedants, from nearly 60 down to the late 20s in age. pit their long-gone skills against a group of kids in their prime. who would dearly love to cream the math teacher who failed them in the March exams. or the English teacher who objected gently to their use of four letter words in essays As I write, our school is bubbling with excitement First of all. our custodians are on strike This gets the kids all excited. and rumours fly about the school being closed, and a free holiday Then their faces drop a foot when they're told they may be going to school in July, to make up for lost time And they start cleaning up after themselves. instead of leaving it all to the Janitors. as they usually do. and hope the strike will be over tomorrow They don't give a diddle about the issues in the strike They are practical They want to be out of here on the first possible day in June Don't blame them It's human nature '-Terry James Bill Smiley lories. you get the same result as restricting your food intake. While I agree with the principal of the whole thing, l think the Heart Foundation has dealt we confirmed calorie counters a rather nasty blow. They have left us somewhere between the battle of the bulge and the war against inflation. All those leafy vegetables and fresh fruits (which incidentally still require between six and 15 minutes to wear off l are the most expensive grocery items on our list. Take lettuce for example. It fluctuates week- ly between unreasonable and completely unreachable. This is particularly true during the winter months when our battle of the bulge is at its peak. . Glancing at the foods which make my weekly gro- cery list I came to a drastic conclusion. I had to do one of two things - replace the macaroni and cheese and baked beans with lettuce, tomatoes and cucumbers and be running to the bank every second day to repien- ish much needed funds or take out a membership at the local YWCA. I chose the latter. It went much ea- sier on my pocket book. During the intermission I turned off the sound and sat back wondering if I have been too severe in my criticism of professional hockey since they expanded the original six teams. That was back in the days when most teams had as many super stars as the Can- diens. Teams usually had one policeman; long before the Philadelphia Flyers became the first team to dress a complete tactical squad. Those were the good old days, before the league governors started dividing the talent to franchises in cities that had never seen ice, never mind hockey players. A masterpiece of merchandising. And every- body started recruiting the has-beens. wood-choppers, hook-and-grab artists and any ex-IRA commandoes who could stand up on skates. You wouldn't catch me watching that goon show. We were into overtime and I recall standing five feet from the TV, yelling at the guy with the puck and pointing to the Leaf in the clear at the blueline. l was firmly convinced the ref and at least one of the lines- men had a serious eye problem, and I spent the rest of the period telling them. After everybody fanned on the winning goal, I told Tony it was long past his bedtime and staggered off to bed myself. l jusGareiy finished my income tax return in time for Sunday's game. If the series had gone the whole seven games there's no doubt I wouldn't have ruined For the teachers. who generally respect the care- takers, it is an object lesson in how important are the latter - the guys who sweep the floors. vacuum the rugs. wash the windows, and generally do the hard and dirty work of keeping the school spruce and spar- kling. As an old floor-scrubber and lavatory-cleaner. from the first job I ever had. I perhaps respect them more than anyone. Unlike other countries, like England, where unions are closely knitted, we cross the picket line and go to work, however much we respect and sympathize, If we don't, we're fired. Simple as that. But we are for- bidden. by our union, to do any of their work, such as emptying a waste-basket. sweeping a floor. Sort of fun. But the really big excitement among our staff, at least the males on it, is the shuffle-board tournament Oh. I don't mean the outdoor kind, where elderly peo- ple push with a pronged stick a plate-like object, No this is the kind you find in taverns across the land: guys with a beer in one hand and a two-dollar bill in the other, shouting their bets through the smoke, We don't have beer in our staff room. but we do have a shuffle-board table Irs no frill from the school board A staff member built it. and the rest of us bought it from him It's the greatest relaxer in the world. after teaching four classes in a row the great truths of the world to no kids. 90 per cent of whom are about as interested as an aardvark Shuffle-board is to curling what dirty pool is to Eng- lish billiards Curling is a gentleman's game. theore- tically. where you shake hands with the winners. and both teams sit down for a drink and discuss the fine points of the game The spectators are either behind glass or up in the stands. where they politely applaud And so it is that my noon hours are frequently spent According to Hoile by swimming lengths in the Waterloo 'Y's' pool. For every one half cup of baked beans I consume, its 14 minutes of concentrated effort in the pool to get rid of the 160 calories. For that doughnut I enjoy every morning with my coffee I'm to add on another 13 min- utes. If I've been weak enough to indulge in a milk shake its another 27 minutes. Potato chips? They are out of the question, unless of course I have a four hour lunch period. They (and don't ask the to be specific) say there's something to be gained from everything you do. They are right. Within the last two weeks I have gained a skin rash from the chlorine in the pool, irritated eyes, stiff muscles and about two pounds. But my efforts have not gone unrewarded. Accord- ing to the fitness wheel, which I have since chosen to ignore, that two pounds should have been about six and on top of this my grocery bill hasn't gone up a penny. I think I'm on the winning side. a good shot and groan with sympathy when someone makes a near miss. Something like a cricket match, with good manners as important as winning. my health. yoy have to. be _in g_ood shape for hockey. At the end of one period Leafs were down 2-0 and l was planning an early night. Halfway through the se- cond with the score four to zip, I was checking to see what was on the other channnels. Toronto scored. Big deal. Toronto scored again. Bigger deal. They scored again. What the hell is going on? Toronto tied it up! I was up on my feet, yelling and wondering how come Roger Neilson looks so serious. Maybe he missed one of the goals and thinks we're still behind. Everything is looking great. Suddenly two Leafs combine to bring the puck out of their own end and bump into Harrison in the goal crease. Miraculously the puck rolled clear of the net, while I was have hys- terics on my living room floor. Shuffle-board is a game where you walk away after losing, face red with rage at your stupid partner, who missed a key shot. I have never seen any hand-shak- ing, but have heard a lot of muttering, The spectators constantly heckle and offer coaching tips designed to destroy the player's concentration, "Put a guard on it. No, draw around it. Tap yours up. Draw deep. Play safe and cut them down." etc. There is universal de- light among the watchers when a great player misses an easy shot. and reluctant grunts of appreciation when a poor player makes a brilliant shot. Out-psyching the opponent is a vital part of the game, Just as he is about to shoot, you lean far over to blow away an imaginary speck of dust, hiding the rock he is shooting at with your tie -iroiGa"wrapp'ad it up, as I guess everybody fi- gured they woulq: _ .. . . . ""r shut off the TV and walked Tony, who is nine, up to his bed. He said I reminded him a lot of one of the players. 77 _ " _ _ . . . '""riidnks," I said. and wondered if it was Guy La- fleur, Darryl Sittler. Ian Turnbull. "Who is it?" "Tiger Williams." You always] blurt. "Don't miss it now," just as he is about to make game shot, And he frequently does It sounds like foul play. and it is. But it can be hilarious Shuffle-board brings out the absolute worst in characters who are normally considered to be people of integrity As played in our staff-room. it is not a game for those who believe in winning in a gentleman- ly fashion They wind up with ulcers and don't sleep nights (“12' m . rr .' d , _ , Natalee Ovonlch. WMV. Mil 26, 1979 . Pa, , In our type shuffle-board. the mighty can fall. and the turkeys become eagles l teamed up with another venerable gentleman. both of us former prisoners-of- war (ort opposite sides). and we showed some of those young punks who were in their diapers while we were trying to make a better world for them By Geoff Hoilo