To the editor,
I cannot believe all the fuss about the proposed beach volleyball. In 2001, the Canada Games committee held their beach volleyball tournaments here in Grand Bend. Everyone enjoyed these games and they were a huge success, with great results and participation by many volunteers and spectators.
We believe that beach volleyball can be held here again and will give not only children and young people something constructive to play, but something for everyone with open minds to watch and get involved with while bringing more visitors to our resort town.
Since arriving here back in 1976, I’ve supported most activities, volunteered for lots of them, and always enjoyed our public beachfront. Bravo to Mark Reilly for bringing back a participation sport for everyone to dive into.
Give volleyball your support,
Lynne Desjardine-Herrington
Grand Bend

Re: PVB
The whole thing is a tempest in a teapot, and if you place any credence in Mr. Crossley’s musings, it will be the least of our worries.
Don Kobe
Grand Bend

Advice from Mom
By Rita Lessard

The most popular month for people to get married is June. I suppose people figure if April showers bring May flowers, then June will bring good weather that is neither too hot nor too cold. This is a good time to start a new life with someone you love.
It has been said that white is a colour that symbolizes happiness and good luck. Black on the other hand, would symbolize bad luck and unhappiness. I can understand why so many brides choose to wear white, so why do the grooms wear black? You’d wonder, wouldn’t you? Wearing earrings will bring the bride good luck provided they are not pearl earrings. Maybe the groom can get on this bandwagon and change his luck with a nice pair of earrings. Apparently, for every pearl a bride wears, her husband will give her a reason to cry. Great! After 47 years of marriage I find this out.
Most animals that you see on the way to church are good luck, including lambs, doves or toads. Even birds that fly directly over your car are good luck. It’s bad luck, though, if a pig crosses your path or bats fly into the church. Your old bat of an Aunt Gretchen doesn’t count.

Things we think we know!

• The red coral of the Mediterranean is actually blue.
• The grey whale is actually black.
• The Caspian Sea and the Dead Sea are both actually lakes.
• The Douglas fir is a pine tree.

Found in the classified ads

• Beautiful 6-month-old kitten. Playful, friendly, very affectionate. Or handsome 32 year old husband. Personable, funny, good job, but hates cats; says he goes or the cat goes. Come see both and decide which one you’d like. (Rita: I guess that honeymoon is over.)
• Amana washer – owned by bachelor who seldom washed.
• For sale: Cows, calves, never bred; also, a gay bull.
• Georgia peaches – Californian grown, 89¢/lb

Quotables

• Golfer Elaine Johnson once drove a ball that hit a tree, bounced back and landed in her bra. “I’ll take two stroke penalty,” she said, “but I’ll be damned if I’m going to play the ball where it lays.”
• Rita Rudner: My grandmother was a very tough woman. She buried three husbands, and two of them were just napping.

Happy Father’s Day to Tom and all my sons who are fathers. To Casey – an honourable mention for looking after his two dogs.

Keeping the Peace
By Tom Lessard, C.D.

It was early November 1953 when my fellow apprentice soldiers and I arrived in Montreal by train. It seemed to us a huge city. We were staying at the Royal Canadian Ordnance Corps on Hochelaga Street, and after debarking from the bus, we were taken to the administration building to be documented. My name was listed as Thomas John Lessard, and not the way it should, John Thomas Lessard. I tried to explain the error and was told by the clerk that it was on all my paperwork and would take too much time to rectify. He said, “This is the army. Live with it.” As a result, I have been correcting it all my life.
Carrying on, we paraded to the quartermaster stores to be kitted out with uniforms, bedding, schoolbooks, rifles, etc. Our medical was set for the next day.
We made our way to the barracks, which was a two storey, typical military structure. Ours had classrooms upstairs and downstairs, along with a laundry room, dormitory style bedrooms, our own administration offices and NCO quarters.
It wasn’t until the next day that we discovered the worst thing about our camp. After we were rudely awakened in the morning, we were told that we had 10 minutes to get cleaned up, dressed and get outside to parade to the mess hall. When we stepped out the door and into the crisp November air of Quebec, we were greeted with one of the most God-awful smells any of us were to meet the rest of our lives. Situated a couple of blocks away was an Imperial Oil refinery neatly on the west side of the fences. A couple of the weaker stomached youngsters turned around and went back into the building, only to be quickly escorted out again. The mess hall was a couple of streets west of where we were, which made the oily stench worse — as if that were possible. Anyway, we struggled through the smell. That was the first of my experiences with army mess halls, and the food was actually very good. Being 16 years old we had pretty good appetites, and were even allotted extra rations.

Last Monday, my wife (her name is Rita, and she’s cute) and I took at drive to Londesborough to try to find the hall at which we would be going for a wedding reception the next Saturday. Since there were no restaurants in town we carried on to Bayfield to DJs. Everyone I know is aware of this establishment. I remembered my sister telling me that an old school chum lived in this town. We looked him up and, sure enough, after 60 years we met again. Being older now, we each have minor medical problems, but still are pretty chipper. As he had to visit his doctor, we had a short but wonderful meeting. Like mine, his wife is in pretty good shape. We both chose our life partners very well.

Happy birthday Donald Dinney, Christopher, Will, Connie, and Olivia Lessard.
Congratulations to Liette Clarke and Jeff Burton, who have a new baby girl.

Alternative View
By Lance Crossley

Last month, I took a mid-year review of how I was faring with my 2010 prediction that states would face serious insolvency issues. We found evidence that this is indeed happening in the form of the Greek debt crisis as well as a number of other Euro nations that are dancing with precarious balance sheets. I said the theme of insolvency would also play out on the institutional level (with banks) and the individual level. Since I didn’t have space to address the latter two items last time, I’ll give it a go for this column.
The thing with debt is that you can’t separate government debt from bank debt or from individual debt; it’s all part of the same story. For example, last issue I mentioned one of the reasons for the bailout of Greece was to keep German and French banks, who were heavily invested in Greek bonds, solvent. French and German leaders feared a Greek default would render those banks’ assets worthless, and thus engender a run on their countries’ banks.
How much of a threat is the sovereign debt crisis for banks? A June 11 Bloomberg article reported that in a worst-case scenario – where Greece, Ireland, Italy, Portugal and Spain would all restructure their debt because of their inability to pay – banks globally would lose $900 billion dollars. In the past I have mentioned how the banking system is extremely over-leveraged. That means it would never have to reach a worst-case scenario to create another banking crisis. It would probably only take one or two countries to default to start the domino effect.
The debt crisis is also unfolding on the individual level. At the end of May, the Organization for Economic Co-operation (OECD) said in its semi-annual economic outlook that the debt levels among Canadian families threatens our economy. The report was overall quite positive on the Canadian economic recovery, but was quick to point out that “the high rate of household indebtedness is a source of risk to the outlook.”
The OECD report follows a similar warning from the Certified General Accountants Association of Canada, which said household debt in Canada is 2.5 times what it was in 1989 – that’s $41,740 per person! People just don’t have any rainy day funds anymore. When something goes wrong, they are really in the mud. The main asset Canadians hold is their homes. If housing prices begin to decline – as I believe they will – a lot of people will be without a financial lifeline.
The whole debt problem will eventually cause deflation. There’s no other way around it. What goes up, must come down. In that sense, my 2010 prediction wasn’t really a prediction at all. I was only observing a story that was already written during the many years of easy credit and loose monetary policy. What we are witnessing now is the story unfolding.

View from the Strip
By Casey Lessard

I feel a level of simpatico with Mark Reilly. We’re not friends, not business partners; I met him once and talked to him on the phone once. But I know how he probably feels: he just wants to run a business in Grand Bend within the rules established by the prevailing authority.
When I started the Grand Bend Strip, I got a some nasty looks from people I didn’t know. Others simply ignored me, considered the paper junk mail, or didn’t care. They liked the old way, the other newspaper. But, as I believe Mark Reilly is, I was committed to doing my best every day and showing that I wanted to be part of this community. Luckily, there is a vocal minority – you who are reading this – who said, let’s support this guy. He’s doing something good.
I think Reilly’s dream of making Grand Bend a destination for athletes is a good thing. Somewhere along the line, he screwed up the execution. Too much, too soon. The town just redid the beach and downtown, after all. Add to that a contract that was too long for too little.
But let’s try to determine who is responsible here. It is really Mark Reilly?
Mark Reilly simply made a proposal to run a business. He did nothing wrong in that respect. His idea had no fundamental flaws. However, he made some mistakes by not communicating with residents, by not paying his initial fee, and by not securing insurance for the season. After his first mistake and the resulting meeting May 1, I can’t blame him for making the other two mistakes. He probably didn’t expect this project would happen this summer.
Is it Lambton Shores council, or perhaps the administration, that should bear the blame for the controversy and uproar by a group of concerned citizens? The administration wrote the terms of the agreement under direction of council, and made some critical errors in its construction. After a series of mistakes, council had enough reason to be concerned that it gave 60 days notice to terminate the contract with PVB. Good thing for them that PVB made the mistakes it did.
I’m going to take it one step further, though. If council and the administration are responsible for this mess, then perhaps the person ultimately responsible is you. After all, you voted in the council and they direct the administration.
I want to hear who you think is responsible. Visit our website and answer our poll, which is active now. It’s an early way to express your opinion to council. You’ll get another opportunity in October with the municipal election.
Regardless of your opinion, it looks like this project will go ahead. Ed Fluter says those supporting this project are a silent minority. But when it comes down to decision time, there may be a more important portion of the population that emerges. They’re the ones who vote in the councilors for wards other than Grand Bend. And when the residents of Grand Bend say, not in my backyard, are they listening? If not, who is in the majority here?

The Grand Bend Strip and publisher Casey Lessard took home more awards than any other newspaper in Ontario Friday, May 14 at the Ontario Community Newspapers Association gala held in Toronto. Here are the results and judges’ comments:

Is mom stunned by the success of the Grand Bend Strip? Unfortunately, they only take one photo at the Ontario Community Newspapers Association awards banquet in Toronto, and this is the one they sent us. From left: publisher Casey Lessard, mom Rita Lessard, OCNA president Don MacLeod, and co-owner Anjhela Michielsen hold the most plaques taken home by any newspaper at this year’s awards, held May 14.

3rd place – General Excellence (best overall paper), circulation under 1,999
Note: Top marks in 4 of 11 categories, including Front Page, Presentation, Photography, and Production Quality
Judges Norm Park, Cindy Beaulieu, Kelly Clammer, Heather Thomson: The most eye-appealing publication in this class. No question about artistic quality and photo presentation. That is tops in the class. This paper also provides good, easy to read features with strong leads. It’s a home-spun feel-good paper with a professional flair.

2nd place – Photographer of the Year (competing with all newspapers)
Judge Bill White: Strong features. Some very nice lighting.

1st place – Best Creative Advertising (under 9,999) – ad promoting Casey365.com
Judge Wayne Aubert: Unexpected clean layout for the clutter of ads in a community paper.

1st place – Best Feature Photo (under 9,999) – cover photo from Parkhill fair
Judge Dave White: I think the photographer made some smart decisions regarding depth of field and camera angle to help us feel this child’s pure joy. The viewer is right there with her. I really love this image.

2nd place – Education Writing – SHDHS music trip to Chicago
Judge Richard Dal Monte: Great photos and a good idea going along for the ride on the band trip to the Windy City.

3rd place – Best Sports Photo – Hockey Night in Zurich dressing room photo
Judge Ron Scheffler: The photographer is commended for exploring behind the scenes to reveal a closer look at those who play simply for the love of the sport.

3rd place – Best Photo Layout – Parkhill’s Five Fun Days
Judge Joe Callahan: An uncomplicated layout and typography that allowed the photograph to communicate effectively.

3rd place – Best Rural Story (under 9,999) – potato farmer Marcus Koenig
Judge Jake Boudrot: Well written, well researched, significant local story, with a nice layout and excellent photographs.

Alternative View
By Lance Crossley

As we are nearly halfway through 2010 – scary, I know – I thought it would be a good time to see how my New Year’s predictions are panning out. In my December 2009 column, I wrote the following:
“My 2010 predictions can be summed up in one word: “insolvency”. To be insolvent is to be unable to pay one’s debt obligations. In my view, this trend will only get stronger on the individual, institutional, and state level.”
For this column, I’ll keep my remarks to the state level. Last year, how many times did you see Greece on the news? These days, you can’t turn on the television without hearing the latest on the Greek debt crisis. What is happening across the Atlantic is extremely important. For those of you who don’t know, Greece has been under tremendous international pressure to get its fiscal house in order. The world markets are refusing to buy Greek debt except at insanely high interest levels. Why? They don’t believe it will ever get paid back. Markets believe it has gone past the point of no return. Even when Greece announced severe cutbacks to its public service, an action that provoked riots and deaths, currency markets have continued to turn its back on the country.
Euro zone leaders and the IMF eventually had to step in and agree to a $146-billion bailout to restore confidence in the international markets. Only one problem: even with the bailout, the market still didn’t believe it would be enough to make Greece solvent. So European leaders went back to the drawing board and came up with a $1-trillion bailout scheme, the largest bailout in history. Incredibly, the effect of this massive liquidity injection lasted less than 24 hours. The Euro almost immediately began to plummet. This was the market’s way of saying, “It doesn’t matter what you do at this point – this thing is broken.” This all in bet by European leaders has been going horribly wrong. What’s their next move? A ten trillion dollar bailout? The market just doesn’t buy this whole charade.
Why is the market crucifying Greece? Because they know who is bailing them out. It’s other bankrupt nations. They know credit rating agencies have been downgrading the debt of Spain and Portugal. They know Ireland and Italy are also facing similar problems. They know this is the broke bailing out the broke.
One of the reasons for the hasty bailout is that France and Germany’s banking sectors are hugely exposed to Portuguese, Spanish, and Greek debt. Leaders feared a contagion effect, and didn’t want a run on their banks. They prevented a run on the banks (for now) but they have not prevented a run on the Euro currency and various national debts.
Greece is the canary in the coal mine. Once this European story plays out with the other nations I mentioned, currency speculators will turn across the Atlantic to the U.S. dollar. The balance sheet of the U.S. is no better than Europe. The dollar is currently benefiting from the European crisis as some investors are fleeing to it as a “safe haven”. This will only last so long. Eventually, investors will also abandon the dollar and run to the only immortal currency – gold. At that point, gold will soar well over $2000 an ounce. The monetary system as we know it will have to push reset and reinvent itself. Things will start again but it’s going to be a turbulent ride to get there.

Advice from Mom
By Rita Lessard

Happy belated Mother’s Day to one and all. What a great station in life it has been for me to have the privilege and fortune to have been able to attain. I hope it has been as wonderful an experience for others as it has been for me. Being a mother has been a roller coaster of emotions, but for me it has been the best time of my life with absolutely no regrets. It is an honour to have raised five great and successful sons. Thank you boys for all you’ve achieved to make me happy and proud to be called your mother. This past weekend I was specially proud and delighted to attend an awards ceremony where Casey won eight awards for the Grand Bend Strip. What a thrill that was. Way to go, Casey!

As mothers, we don’t get much time to relax, but occasionally we let the housework slide and watch a game show or two. One day, I was talking to my neighbour and she was saying how her husband came home from work one day to find the house in complete disarray. There she was plopped in front of the TV. “So that’s what you do while I’m at work?” he said, smirking. “I just happened to have it on,” she lied. The jig was up the next day when the family was watching the prime minister giving a speech. As he stepped out of his car and waved to the cheering crowd, her son shouted, “Look, mommy, he won the car!”

As mothers go, I always considered myself a half decent housekeeper. I enjoyed playing games with the kids, so that was my excuse for not being 100 per cent perfect in that area. My friend, on the other hand, was a bit of a cleaning fanatic. The one Friday night her teenagers had a party down in the recreation room, and she was not too happy about the mess they made, so she made them clean it up. As she watched them work, it was clear that she was completely dissatisfied with their cleaning efforts and she let them know. Finally the son, exasperated with having to do it all over, reached for a broom and asked, “Can I use this, or are you planning to go somewhere?” Wow! How brave was that?!

From Reader’s Digest:
All mothers have intuition. The great ones have radar.
Raising kids is part joy and part guerilla warfare.
Just be kind and good to your children. Not only are they the future of the world, they’re the ones who can sign you into the home.

Hints from Woman’s World:
Like to round off that gas purchase to a nice even number? Don’t bother. Adding fuel after the pump’s auto shut-off kick actually doesn’t get you any extra. The tank needs a bit of room for gas to expand, and any extra fuel evaporates into the car’s vapor collection system. What’s worse, it could cause poor engine performance. Wow, who knew? If this is true, it’s a lesson for me.

While you’re gardening carry a quart size spray bottle filled with a couple of drops of liquid dish soap and water. If you see bugs attacking your flowers, give them a hefty squirt and they’ll fly away.

View from the Strip
By Casey Lessard

I’ll admit that I don’t spend a lot of time in downtown Grand Bend in the winter. My home base is in Parkhill, and I am usually heading in the other direction, to Toronto, during the school year.
That’s why it was interesting to visit the strip April 2. The day was too beautiful not to see whether others would be soaking up the sun and getting sand stuck between their toes. They sure were. It felt like July.
More interesting, though, was seeing the main street construction that will be done by the time most people expected summer to start (i.e. not April). Regardless of what you think of the width of the road, the remake looks promising. The facelift was a long time coming.
I can understand why some people are nonplussed about the process. It makes life tougher if the road’s not wide enough. But let’s be honest. This construction is not to make life easier for drivers. It is for the walkers, and those using wheelchairs. In other words, it’s for the shoppers. Someday, that may even be you.
That will be some time from now, though, if you won’t go downtown while visitors run amok. If a town can’t sustain its downtown economy year-round solely on its residents, what do you expect? Businesses are going to continue to plan for the summer economy, and had people known it was going to be so beautiful Easter weekend, more businesses would have opened to serve the influx.
There’s no turning back on this downtown project, and we may have the best infrastructure around by this summer. With the new look, we may even be able to attract a few more downtown businesses that cater to locals, as most people say they want.
But it will take some more vision, like that of a select few (including Kazwear, which is finishing its own intriguing renovation), to get us to the point where the majority make a living off the residents instead of the visitors.
Is that right for Grand Bend? You tell me.

Alternative View
By Lance Crossley

Your faithful editor, Mr. Casey Lessard, recently gave me 100 trillion dollars. Seriously. Following a dinner we had a few weeks ago in Toronto’s Bloor West neighbourhood, in which I proposed that the United States is firmly on the road to hyperinflation, Casey kindly sent me a rather fitting gift: an authentic 100 trillion dollar bill from Zimbabwe’s bout of hyperinflation in the 2000s. (Ed.: This was the second largest bill ever printed until the Z$ was suspended in April 2009; government transactions are now performed in US$.)
Zimbabwe is one of the worst examples of hyperinflation in history. It is also the first example of hyperinflation in the 21st century (though, dare I say, it won’t be the last. More on that later).
The road to hyperinflation for Zimbabwe started with a sputtering economy, enormous government deficits, and the inability to borrow due to poor credit ratings. The Robert Mugabe government, which desperately wanted to avoid creating the civil strife that results from harsh austerity measures, resorted to what most governments do in this situation: printing money. Since Mugabe couldn’t find buyers for Zimbabwe bonds, he rolled the printing presses.
At its peak in 2008, inflation in Zimbabwe was increasing at an exponential rate. Put in a more tangible way, the cost of grocery shopping would double every 24 hours.
Hyperinflation brings cruel consequences for the average citizen. If you’re on a fixed income and your pension is $3000 a month, and the price of everything around you increases 50 to 100 times that amount, you can imagine the hopelessness of the situation. Basically, hyperinflation is an instantaneous way to wipe out all your savings and wealth.
During my conversation with Casey a few weeks ago, I suggested that the United States is highly vulnerable to hyperinflation. Like Zimbabwe, they have a struggling economy and gigantic government deficits. The only difference is that other countries are still willing to buy U.S. treasuries (i.e. U.S. debt). However, that may be changing.
In 2009, the U.S. had to auction a record $1.49 trillion in treasury bills to pay its deficit. And that was only freshly minted debt. If you count the debt the U.S. had to “roll over” from previous auctions, it totalled over $8 trillion. That is a massive amount of debt to sell. Remember, somebody at the other end has to assume this debt.
To me, it is astounding that anyone would buy a U.S. treasury security in light of all the money printing talking place south of the border. John Williams, an American economist who calculates statistics based on how the government used to calculate these things (before various administrations started cooking the stats), says the real inflation rate in the United States is at least twice as much than is reported by the government. In other words, people are buying U.S. treasuries to lose money at this point. This can only go on for so long.
Recently, some well-informed analysts have also noticed some “funny business” in the way the U.S. reports the results of its treasury auctions. Without getting too technical, it appears that part of the treasury auctions are being bought by the Federal Reserve itself. This would indicate that there is already not enough demand for the massive supply of U.S. debt that must be met. If you wrote yourself a cheque and cashed it in to meet your monthly obligations, you would be put in jail for fraud. The U.S. government, on the other hand, can get away with it. But not forever.
Will we ever see a million, billion or trillion dollar American bill? As incredible as it may sound, this is not a ludicrous proposition anymore.

Advice from Mom
By Rita Lessard

What’s with this weather already? A couple of nice, sunny days, and then it’s spoiled with cold and frost. Twice this past week I had to scrape the ice off my windshield. It’s half a wonder why people get sick when one day we’re wearing shorts and the next it’s back to the sweaters and winter jackets.
Well, we have to wear clothes anyway, but do you ever wonder why we do it to ourselves? Generation after generation of women has willingly exposed themselves to the high risk of pantyhose strangulation, girdle-induced respiratory arrest and turtleneck gagging. What kind of sick people punish themselves like this?
Men, too, continue to punish themselves. Just look at the necktie. Where did that idea come from? Perhaps from watching too many westerns? Some bright eyed designer must have been watching a hanging one day and thought, “Now there’s an idea that could really catch on!”
At least it stays tight. Contrast that with pantyhose, a nylon half-body suit that fits like a tourniquet but gradually loosens throughout the day until it folds at the ankle like ribbon candy? Not pretty, but we love it.
Spandex is another thing. I’ve seen both sexes wearing it, and believe me, I honestly think some people wearing it these days are seriously violating the spandex rules of engagement. You know who I’m talking about.
High-heeled shoes are another bad fashion idea. Backaches, bunions, sore feet, fallen arches, etc. Come on, people. Give it up! Sweats, socks, running shoes and sensible walking shoes are our reward for enduring decades of fashion abuse. Embrace them.
Bottom line is, clothes and other apparel shouldn’t punish us. I may be showing my age, but considering I just celebrated my 69th birthday, I feel I’ve earned that privilege. Even though people say I don’t look a day over 68, I am what I am. Thanks for the thought anyway.

Thank you to my husband, sons and daughters-in-law, my sister Joan, brother Peter and brothers Bill and Richard, as well as my friends Deb and Roy for the cards and gifts for my April 5th birthday. Your kindness is overwhelming.

Lighter notes
Someone once told me to marry a man your own age. As your beauty fades, so does his eyesight.

Guilt: the gift that keeps on giving.

Overheard at Tim’s?
A woman walked up to the manager. “Are you hiring any help?”, she asked.
“No,” he replied, “we already have all the staff we need.”
“Okay,” she said, “then would you mind getting someone to wait on me?”

Touché.

Keeping the Peace
By Tom Lessard, C.D.

My military career of 18 years took me to many places I probably would never have gone on my own. When I joined the RCOC in 1953 at the age of 16, I was sent to Montreal, where the ordnance corps school was located. For a kid that young who had never been away from home, it was quite an exciting experience. One of the best times was when we had to do our qualifying on the rifle. We had to take a bus to Mt. Bruno off the island and into the Gatineau hills. Beautiful country.
After completing my training, which took almost two years, my first posting was to 27 COD on Highbury Avenue in London. For the first two months, I was living in Wolseley Barracks, but was told that I had to move out and find a place on the economy (in other words, an apartment or a rooming house). One of the older guys showed me a rooming house on Hale Street, just a ten-minute walk from work. The lady who ran the place had two small children and 21 boarders whom she fed and housed. She found room for me on the third floor (at one time the attic) with seven other tenants, all army. We ate and lived – and caroused – together. It was a very interesting time. They certainly taught me a lot, about half of which they shouldn’t have.
A little more than a year later, the Suez Crisis occurred. Up on the notice board, a request for volunteers was posted. The first name to be entered was yours truly. Off I went to Egypt for the better part of a year. Six months after I returned, there was a request on the board for a storeman to go out to Wainwright, Alberta, as increment attached to the RCEME workshop for a three month summer exercise. I got the job, but when I reported in, I was told that I would be the C.O.’s batman-driver. That was a pretty cushy duty. It was a surprise for me to find out that my brother-in-law Sam was stationed in Calgary with the Queen’s Own Rifles, at whose camp we bunked before heading north to Wainwright. I didn’t realize until then that my sister was living there; they showed me a great time.
Back to London. The next year I was back to Alberta again. Another good summer.
I wanted to go to Germany and the only way to get there was to get posted to the 1st battalion, the Royal Canadian Regiment stationed at Ipperwash. I didn’t even know where that was. I soon found out and was pleasantly surprised to experience one of the best camps I was ever to live in. The other in consideration was Lizard Flats in Cyprus.
While with the battalion, I had three years in Germany, two tours in Cyprus, two summers in Petawawa, one in Gagetown, winter exercises up north, and a month in Jamaica. If not for the army, I wouldn’t have gone on an upgrading course in Montreal, where I met my future wife. She travelled with me to Germany, where we married and had our first two boys. Rita turned 69 earlier this month (happy birthday).
Happy birthday this month to Bob and Jessica. I hope everyone is enjoying this beautiful spring weather. It’s nice to be alive.

View from the Strip
By Casey Lessard

This is the time of year, it seems, when good things start happening. We’ve just recovered from the Olympics with its thrilling ending, the snow seems to be gone for good, and our chihuahua can now handle a walk that lasts longer than three minutes.
But here at the Strip, we have many more things to celebrate. Our friends at South Huron’s music department continue their MusicFest winning ways, James Eddington took a much needed vacation, and Anjhela is weeks away from finishing her degree. Then there are the awards. Where do I start? It’s a good year, that’s for sure.
When I started the Grand Bend Strip, my intention was to make it one of the best newspapers in Ontario, and maybe even Canada. Each issue, the goal is to give you the best photos and most interesting stories I can find related to your community and interests. This work has paid off with one CCNA win, two OCNA wins, and many top three finishes in the first two years.
This year is different, though. Now, the Strip is nominated for best paper in Ontario, and this after only three years of publication. My photography is recognized again, and a variety of photos and writing samples are nominated for two CCNA awards and more OCNA awards than any other paper, large or small, in Ontario.
That was a surprise. This is likely one of the smallest publications in Ontario, after all. But the honours are a tribute to you, the people who are reading this column.
Without your support, the paper would have folded last summer under the financial strain of making this work every time.
So thank you for your continued support. Just one more thing to ask of you: cross your fingers Friday, May 14 that I come home with something that will really make you proud.

Advice from Mom
By Rita Lessard

Daylight saving time: is this a good thing or a bad thing? Whether it started in the First World War or it started the First World War, I don’t know. All I know is that we’re denied an extra hour of sleep. That’s not a pretty thing, especially in respect to my regular Monday morning customers. Most of them are a little cranky first thing anyway, so you should see them when they haven’t had enough sleep.
I think it all comes down to a lack of patience. They say the great thinker Socrates had a lot of patience, but I think Rodin’s model for the sculpture, The Thinker, had more. I have a lot of patience, but I don’t think I could pose in that position for too long. Brr! Get me my Snuggie already.
Most people today don’t have the patience for people who stand around thinking. For instance, when you come into Tim’s and you’re standing in line waiting to place your order, you’d think you would know what you want by the time you’re in front of me. Not necessarily true! Don’t get me wrong. I think it’s fine to be a thinker and stand around contemplating life, but the customers behind you don’t have the same patience as I do. Heck, it’s not as if I’m going anywhere.
I guess thinkers are a dying breed. At a stop light, when the light turns green, that’s no time to sit daydreaming or even thinking. When you hear that horn beeping behind you, you’d better get moving, sister! See what I mean? No patience.
There are so many places you have to stand in line and practice patience. In the bank and the grocery store, that’s a sure thing. For heaven’s sake, you don’t want to ever hold up the line thinking at an all-you-can-eat buffet. Geez, grab the check and go already. People have no patience when they’re tired or hungry, so quit your thinking and move on before you give yourself a headache.

St. Patrick’s Day
Everyone is Irish on St. Patrick’s Day, even though St. Patty himself wasn’t (he was a British missionary). For most Irish-Americans, this holiday is partly festive and partly religious. Many Irish came to Canada and the United States and brought their saint and traditions with them. In fact, today there are more people of Irish descent than there are in Ireland.
St. Patrick’s name is found all over Ireland, where it is used for town names including Kirkpatrick and Kilpatrick, and family names such as Kirkpatrick and Fitzpatrick. That name, Fitzpatrick, was my mother’s maiden name. Mom hated the colour green, and always told me never to buy anything green, but I couldn’t because green is my favourite colour.
The Irish, who have the shamrock as their symbol, believe good and bad things come in threes. Three tasks, three wishes, three brothers, three sisters. How odd is that? I come from a family of seven, and have three brothers and three sisters. Then mommy, daddy and baby make three.

O’Casey
Getting back to Irish names, sometimes Casey would upset me and I’d say, “Oh, Casey, stop doing that.” Guess I said it enough that some people thought his name was O’Casey, which is a great Irish name.

Inspired by the holiday
A man in New Zealand was arrested for setting his underwear on fire and riding through town on a motorized bar stool. The charge? Driving without a license.

A snatch-and-grab thief in London decided to see how much he could scoop from the display window of a jewelry store. But first he had to break the window, so he pried a manhole cover off the street and hurled it through the window. He grabbed the jewelry and took off running. He might have gotten away with this crime had he not fallen, you guessed it, down the open manhole.

They say you can catch more flies with honey than with vinegar, but what are you going to do with all those flies?
Happy 80th birthday to Joan Smith.

Keeping the Peace
By Tom Lessard, C.D.

(Editor’s Note: Please remember that these are memories of a time long ago, and the activities described in the following story are neither condoned nor recommended.)

My buddy “Bobbie” and I were walking back to the barracks one summer evening when, out of the blue, he says, “Let’s go to Port Huron.”
The canteen was closed and the hotel in town would be closing at midnight. With Ontario being on daylight saving time and Michigan on standard time, the bars were going to be open for a while, especially considering some of them stayed open until 2 a.m. in those days.
Away we went. With very few OPP around and the speed limits higher than today, it didn’t take too long to get to our destination. At the bar we went to, there were already a number of Canadian military enjoying some time off. We closed the place.
Bobbie was in pretty rough shape as we got to the car and took off. I was able to hold my liquor better than he could, but he still wouldn’t let me drive. About halfway home, he turned his head to barf out the window, and sure enough, t was closed. You can just imagine the mess.
Undeterred, we continued home. We pulled into the parking lot at the rear of the camp, turned off the motor, and staggered to the barracks. It was about 4 a.m. by this time, and we had to be up at 6 a.m.. Because we didn’t leave camp by the front gate, we didn’t bother getting passes, which I suppose meant we were AWOL, but we never got caught on any of our excursions.
The afternoon was very warm and sunny, and we didn’t get back to the car until after duty at 4 p.m. Our first mistake was opening the doors. The odour and flies were enough to make us throw up, but neither of us did.
We had to haul our rears back to the shack and get a bucket, soap, rags and tools. The door panel had to come off, and the glass had to be taken out. With the sun shining on the car all day, it was like an oven inside and Bobbie’s heavings from the night before were caked on the door, glass and floor. I’m sure we didn’t get it all off because the smell lingered for what seemed like forever. It took us until about 10 p.m. to get the car cleaned as best we could and put back together.
We were sweaty and smelly, so we we drove down to the beach and cooled off in the lake. We were thirsty and I remembered that I had picked up a six-pack in Port Huron. I don’t know why it hadn’t exploded from the heat, but it was still intact. When I opened a can, the beer shot into the air and left me with about half a can of warm liquid. Undaunted, I drank it up and grabbed another. Bobbie wasn’t interested. I wonder why.

Thanks to Gary D. for all the help you gave me and Rita during my rehab this winter. You are very much appreciated.

The Grand Bend Strip leads all community newspapers in Ontario with eight nominations for this year’s Ontario Community Newspaper Awards, including best overall paper and photographer of the year for Casey Lessard. The top three entrants were announced March 1; winners will be announced at the OCNA’s annual conference in Toronto May 14. The Parry Sound North Star has the second most nominations with seven.
To learn more about the Grand Bend Strip’s history of awards since its first publication in May 2007, visit http://www.grandbendstrip.com/about/awards.

The Grand Bend Strip and publisher Casey Lessard are nominated in the following categories:

General Excellence – Class 1
(Award for best overall paper from two random issues submitted)
Other nominees: Cobden Sun and Manotick Messenger

Education Writing
(Chicago! – SHDHS music trip)
Other nominees: Parry Sound Beacon Star and Richmond Hill/Thornhill Liberal

Best Rural Story (circ under 9,999)
(Fields of Gold – Marcus Koenig, potato farmer)
Other nominees: Listowel Banner and New Hamburg Independent

Best Feature Photo (circ under 9,999)
(Best Seat in the House – Dashwood soap box derby cover photo)
Other nominees: Aylmer Express and Bracebridge Examiner

Best Photo Layout
(Five days of good, clean fun – Parkhill Five Fun Days)
Other nominees: Ajax/Pickering News Advertiser and North York Mirror

Best Sports Photo
(Hockey Night in Zurich – Mark Buruma in dressing room)
Other nominees: Brampton Guardian and Mount Forest Confederate

Photographer of the Year
(Casey Lessard, photographer)
Other nominees: Belleville EMC and Peterborough This Week

Best Creative Advertising (circ under 9,999)
(Casey365.com – ad promoting website)
Other nominees: Mount Forest Confederate and Nunavut News/North

Keeping the Peace
By Tom Lessard, C.D.

Arriving at Camp Ipperwash in 1960, I was directed to the battalion orderly room, where I was greeted and my name entered on the battalion nominal roll. After all the paperwork was completed and I was told about my assignment to headquarters company, I was directed to that office, where all the routines and paraphernalia were explained to me. After pointing out where I would be working, at the quartermaster stores, I was then told I would be living in H Block 26B. The glimpses I had of the camp as I was arriving that morning led me to think he said Stalag 26B, as I was certain that camp resembled this one. Undaunted, I stumbled around and finally found the hut that was to be my home until we left for Germany in the fall of 1962.

The voice of God
My bed was located right beside a window. I dumped my gear and headed for the Q.M. stores. As I was walking across the parade square, I heard a loud voice come over the air. “Halt! Where are you going?!” I thought it was God and almost fell to my knees. “To find the Q.M. stores, sir!” I replied. “Turn right around and march off the parade ground: NOW!” he said. Of course, I obeyed, and later found out that my first thoughts were very close to the truth; the regimental sergeant major is god of the battalion and the parade square is his holy domain.

Fitting right in
I found the Q.M. stores and reported in. By now, it was almost closing time, so the clerk quickly introduced me to everyone available, gave me a quick glimpse of the stores and told me to follow him. He led me outside to the parking lot and we drove to the wet canteen without even asking if I drank or not. The canteen wasn’t open yet, but that didn’t deter him. He just dragged me around to the back door, pounded a couple of times, and we were admitted. Since the bar was legally closed, and you never knew when the orderly officer or anyone else with authority might come along, the bartender took us into the walk-in cooler where we had a couple of pints before supper. Talk about being taught the ropes; I was learning very quickly.
After supper, I was asked to join two of the guys on a tour of Thedford. First stop, just inside the village, was the Legion. It was located off the main road and back in quite a piece so the residents wouldn’t complain about noise or other things that might go on in an establishment that served booze. After a glass or two, we went to the next watering hold, the Thedford Hotel, which would some time later be renamed The Pink Elephant. In those days, it was a jumping joint.
You may not remember, but there was segregation in those days. Every hotel was separated into a men’s room and a ladies’ and escorts’ only room. The only way to get into the ladies’ room was to have one of the women invite you over. There were times when one of the soldiers who lived in town would go home, pick up his wife, and bring her down so we could all drink on the women’s side.
To add to the fun, there were apartments above the hotel and most of the Main Street stores, and we knew many of the married couples who lived there. We had many a party up there in the days when I was stationed at Ipperwash with 1RCR.
A year later, I married Rita in Germany on February 8, 1963. We celebrated 47 years last week. With love, Tom.

Advice from Mom
By Rita Lessard

By the time you read this article, I will have started my Lenten fast. Shrove Tuesday, better known as Pancake Tuesday or Mardi Gras (Fat Tuesday), will be the last hooray for me as I will give up the goodies until April 3, the Saturday before Easter Sunday. Forty days of sacrifice. By now my friends are accustomed to my habit of doing this and bear with me as my moods can change from the lack of sugar. Thank you to everyone for being so patient.
Chinese traditions
February 14 rang in the Chinese New Year, and this is the year of the tiger. To usher in luck and prosperity, the Chinese exchange money in small red envelopes. For the best karma, they hand out cash in even numbers, the number eight being the luckiest.
I really enjoy reading my daily horoscope, and I usually read Casey’s as well. A few weeks ago, I was reading Casey’s and it said he would do well in pursuing a career in communications, journalism, or photography. How freaky is that?
The Chinese horoscope uses animal signs based on the year the person was born. This is a fun thing; as you look at this lineup, you may see some traits that relate to you according to the year you were born. Enjoy!

Tiger (1914, 1926, 1938, 1950, 1962, 1974, 1986, 1998, 2010) – Passionate, powerful, love luxury, and loyal to friends and family.
Rabbit (1915, 1927, 1939, 1951, 1963, 1975, 1987, 1999) – Diplomatic, romantic, can turn a profit, and love to try new things.
Dragon (1916, 1928, 1940, 1952, 1964, 1976, 1988, 2000) – Extroverted, like to learn new things, optimistic, inexhaustible.
Snake (1917, 1929, 1941, 1953, 1965, 1977, 1989, 2001) – Great intuition, wise advisor, love live, lots of youthful energy.
Horse (1918, 1930, 1942, 1954, 1966, 1978, 1990, 2002) – Determined, talented, encouraging, live in the moment.
Sheep (1919, 1931, 1943, 1955, 1967, 1979, 1991, 2003) – Make friends easily, creative, artistic, elegant, nurturing.
Monkey (1920, 1932, 1944, 1956, 1968, 1980, 1992, 2004) – Verbal, expressive, witty, enjoy the spotlight.
Rooster (1921, 1933, 1945, 1957, 1969, 1981, 1993, 2005) – Outspoken, opinionated, confident, ambitious, can easily inspire people.
Dog (1922, 1934, 1946, 1958, 1970, 1982, 1994, 2006) – Protective of loved ones, good with money, always lend a hand to those in need.
Pig (1923, 1935, 1947, 1959, 1971, 1983, 1995, 2007) – Humble yet confident, honest, usually in the right place at the right time.
Rat (1924, 1936, 1948, 1960, 1972, 1984, 1996, 2008) – Problem solver, value independence, have great people skills.
Ox (1925, 1937, 1949, 1961, 1973, 1985, 1997, 2009) – Loyal friend, hate surprises, practical, tend to distrust authority

My fair valentine
Donna: He’s so romantic, every time he greets me, he starts with “Fair lady.”
Joyce: Romantic, my eye! He used to be a bus driver!

Happy birthday to my grandson Jonah & Molly McCann (March 4), Robert Peter (February 24), and my granddaughter Abby (March 12).

Alternative View
By Lance Crossley

In George Orwell’s 1984, the ruling party’s three slogans were “War is Peace; Freedom is Slavery; Ignorance is Strength.” If you need any evidence that an Orwellian world is already upon us, you need to look no further that the awarding of the Nobel Peace Prize to US President Barack Obama – a bizarre and scandalous episode that drips with irony.
In the 108-year history of the Nobel awards, it has never gone to a leader so early in his tenure. So why Obama? One Nobel committee chairman defended the selection by saying, “Alfred Nobel wrote that the prize should go to the person who has contributed most to the development of peace in the previous year. Who has done more for that than Barack Obama?”
Let us run through all the remarkable contributions President Obama has made to the cause of peace. He has expanded the war in Afghanistan, poetically adding 30,000 troops to the area just a few days before his acceptance speech. He authorized the war to expand into Pakistan, where the killing of innocent Pakistani civilians has become a regular occurrence. He’s pointing the gun at Iran and Yemen. He continues to occupy Iraq by building permanent military bases in the country. He has tried to block court cases that challenge torture and domestic spying. And he has still not closed Guantanamo Bay, as promised so often during his election campaign.
In light of all this, his December 10 Nobel acceptance speech was all the more difficult to stomach. On what planet can a man accepting a peace prize get away with this: “I … reserve the right to act unilaterally if necessary to defend my nation.” Or how about this: “So yes, the instruments of war do have a role to play in preserving the peace.” Or this: “War is sometimes necessary.”
One observer astutely called it “an infomercial for war”. International security analyst Kaan Kutlu Atac said the president used the word “war” 44 times, the word “kill” five times and “peace” 31 times. It seems peace is losing ground.
Obama’s Nobel Peace Prize is perhaps the most striking symbolic event of 2009. An event that only makes sense in a world where people truly believe war is peace.

Keeping the Peace
By Tom Lessard, C.D.

“I’ve fallen and I can’t get up!”
Those were the words that came out of my mouth the day I slipped and fell on the ice next door. I had been to town in the morning and walked in and out of a number of stores with no problem. Then I went home.

When I got there, I noticed that the BRA truck had come and gone, so I gathered up my blue box, threw it onto the porch. Then I reached for my neighbour’s to do the same, but walking across the driveway, I didn’t notice a small patch of ice covered with a light film of snow. Sure enough, I hit it with my prosthetic leg. Down I went, and looking back on it now, I think my leg must have landed on the cement step.
What now?
I lay there contemplating what to do. Rita had worked all night, so I thought she would be upstairs in bed, but I called her name a number of times anyway. Luckily she was still up; she ran out and tried to help me up, but my stump was too sore. She ran in, got a blanket, rolled me onto it, and dragged me over to the porch, which had a railing. I still couldn’t get up, so she went inside and got my wheelchair. She laid down a rug, rolled the wheelchair onto it, and engaged the brakes. I crawled backwards and inched my way up. She pushed me to the steps and, because we don’t have a ramp, I had to use crutches to make my way into the house while Rita brought the chair in.
My stump was swelling rapidly, and I asked Rita to fetch some ice. I called Tele-Health, and the nurse said I should go to the emergency room in Exeter for an x-ray. It took us an hour to get outside, into the car and to the hospital; we arrived at 2 p.m.
The waiting room was empty, so I reported to the reception. The doctors were in a meeting until 4 p.m. or so, so we waited until a new receptionist came on duty at 3 p.m. She sent a nurse out to take me into triage, where she took my blood pressure and sent me back to reception to be documented. I was wheeled into examination at 4 p.m. The doctor had a look at my knee and arranged an x-ray.
After the x-ray, the doctor returned to tell me that the results were inconclusive because the swelling was too hard to see through. He was going to make arrangements at Strathroy hospital for a CAT scan as soon as possible.
The next day, the orthopedic specialist’s nurse called at 10 a.m. and asked me to be at the hospital by 11:15 a.m. That was impossible because Rita wouldn’t be home until 11, and the hospital’s an hour away, so she scheduled me for 1:30 p.m. the following day.
The test done, the doctor told me I have two faint cracks in my femur, put my leg in a half-cast, and sent me home. Can’t walk for three months!

It’s an odd coincidence that exactly 35 years prior to the accident, Rita also spent December 16 at South Huron Hospital. It was a much happier event, though, as she was giving birth to our last child, Casey.

Advice from Mom
By Rita Lessard

Christmas has come and gone and, on the whole, I imagine most people were pleased with the presents they received. Some people are hard to please, resulting in the regifting concept. Every year, my mother disliked the presents my brother Richard and I gave her, which I thought was fine because by March she would forget who gave her the gifts and would ask me to take them off her hands.
Tom and I did were blessed to receive many gifts this year. There were, however, a few glitches. Tom got some underwear without a pee hole (the latest fashion, apparently) but they weren’t really for him. Nevertheless, he is keeping them, so good luck, Mr. Pee Pee Pants.
Tom also got one of those hearing aids advertised on TV, but apparently it doesn’t work. I received a car starter, which was quite exciting, but I had to return it because it didn’t have all the parts to install and would take an additional $200 to get it working. The rest of our gifts were wonderful and I am thankful to have such a generous family.
I had a customer tell me that the gift she gave her husband was a bit of a disappointment. She said she bought him an SUV, which made me think, Wow! That’s a great gift. That was until she said, “Yeah, Jack was a little sour with my idea. Who wouldn’t appreciate an SUV – socks, underwear and Viagra?” You can’t please everyone; try again next year.
I don’t know why we aggravate ourselves by making New Year’s resolutions. My resolution was to abstain from making resolutions. I do better at Lent, when I give up all sweets. It’s only for 40 days, so it’s easy to manage than torturing myself for 365.
Here is a New Year’s belief, Scottish or Irish. A tall, dark and handsome man brings good luck to your home, as long as he isn’t flat-footed. Similarly, the first person you meet walking down the road signifies your future. If it’s a child, you’re lucky, but if it’s a gravedigger, not so much.

Since Tom fell and broke his leg last month, I won’t be going on any trips this year, which means I can put my language lessons on hold. They say that English is one of the hardest languages to learn, and these signs seem to show that’s true:
In a Japanese hotel room – “Please to bathe inside the tub.”
In a Finnish hostel – “If you cannot reach the fire exit, close the door and expose yourself at the window.”
In a Copenhagen airport – “We take your baggage and send them in all directions.” Such honesty!

Amid the holiday rush, the Christmas airline traveler was curious and asked why there was a mistletoe hanging over the baggage counter. The clerk replied, “It’s so you can kiss your luggage goodbye.”

Happy birthday to Mike (Jan. 24) and Glenn (Feb. 19). Happy anniversary to my husband of 47 years (Feb. 8). Happy New Year to my family, friends and neighbours!

It was one year ago this month that it was decided that the Grand Bend Home & School Association would start fundraising for a new wheelchair accessible playground for the children of Grand Bend Public School and the youth of the community. The goal was $70,000, daunting to say the least. It was through grant applications, letters to Grand Bend community organizations, H&S fundraisers and public donations that our goal was reached. There are so many people to thank, and thank you just does not seem to suffice.
It is because of the people in this town that we can be so proud and that our children are being given such a great start in life. The children are so excited to be getting a new playground that all of them will be able to play on every day.

There are so many organizations and individuals that I would like to thank:
The Grand Bend Rotary Club; they were the first to lend support. It shot us forward, knowing that without a doubt we would succeed.
The Grand Bend Royal Canadian Legion not only supported us, but also enjoyed partying with us along the way.
The Grand Bend Lioness are a wonderful, thoughtful group who I enjoyed sharing a “spot” of tea with.
From Lakesmith Conservation I received some life lessons over coffee, tucked some future metaphors in my pocket for later use and got the biggest hugs.
Kause for Kids Easy Riders led by Nelson Desjardine donated the last of their fundraising efforts to our cause.
Thanks to Grand Bend Mariners Hockey Team, Grand Bend Women’s Institute, Sunrise Garden Centre and the Grand Bend Community Foundation.
The Million Dollar Round Table grant would not have happened if it weren’t for Mr. Brian Hall of Waypoint Financial.
Thanks to Mr. Paul Ciufo from Godbolt Ciufo Insurance & Financial Services.
Thank you to the Grand Bend Optimist Club, where I have gained many new friends.
Thanks to all of you who sacrificed the calories for our children with the yummy Smile Cookies, and Brian and Cheryl Dallner from Grand Bend Tim Horton’s.
Thank you to Jennison Construction who will always have a special place in my heart.
Huron Woods Inc., Hayter’s Turkeys, DJ T&A.
Thank you to Bob Uhrig of Grand Bend Sobey’s, who works well with short notice and to Mac’s Milk customers who spared their change.
Thanks to Casey from the Grand Bend Strip and Lynda from the Lakeshore Advance who did what they do best, get the word out.
Special thanks to all the Grand Bend families that supported our fundraisers throughout the year.
Thanks to ALL the children, who not only danced their way to a huge contribution, but also those who dug into their own piggy banks… honorable mentions are Paige Elliott, Hunter Penford, Aylish Betts, Ava Duffield, Bridget Donaldson and Caleb Rood.
Many people made personal donations including long time friends Cam & Randi Ivey whom I love dearly. Randi started the H&S at GBPS and also fundraised for the original playground structure at the school. Some passions never die.
Peter & Esther Warner, Tony & Fran Relouw, Richard Webb, and Stephanie Donaldson endlessly give to our community.
Grand Bend is a community but has proven to be more than that; we are family. To our family at GBPS, teachers, staff, students and our H&S members, thank you. It has been quite a year for all of us. The glue that holds any family together are the friends you can count on to weather the ups and downs.
Special thanks to Craig Wiseman for his endless patience and I am compelled to thank my children Ridley & Aidan. Without them I would not have discovered the thrill of such an amazing event.
Thank you to Jennifer Maguire my co-chair, who has been by my side from the beginning.
Susan Patton is the world’s best cheerleader.
Honorable mentions to Andrea Matheson, Erin Sageman, Kaleigh Clemens, Jennifer Blackhall, Jennifer Mossop, Julie Beattie and Kelly Stanlake for assisting in our many playground fundraisers.
Thanks to Susan Manz for her continuous support to us and our children.
We hope to see everyone at the unveiling of the playground in June. Heartfelt appreciation to all involved.

Amy Wiseman
Playground Committtee Chairwoman

View from the Strip
By Casey Lessard

With the mediocre weather and mediocre economy we experienced this year, it’s tough not to feel glum. I’m happy, though, (for the most part) with how 2009 went here.
No health problems this year. Missed the swine flu this time around.
Anjhela is almost done school. Well, for now, anyway.
We got a new little dog, and she is delightful. A true joy, minus her piercing barks.
Made inroads on improving myself, creating new photographs for almost 300 days in a row. Too bad the project was supposed to last 365. Oh, well.
Perhaps I should stop tempering all the positives with a negative. So, here are some truly good things I’m thankful for:
Got more hours working at Humber College. My car is still kicking at 340,000 km. My parents still want to do their articles. James, Lance, Jenipher, and Yvonne have really helped give some needed breadth to the paper. My photo project forced me to take my work more seriously. You, the reader, responded to keep this paper going, and for that, I am truly grateful.

So, what about 2010? I’m interested in seeing how things pan out. In Grand Bend, there’s the promise of the new Main Street, which some argue is too thin for traffic. They’re probably right, and we’ll measure it before the summer to see. There’s the prospect of sewers, and most of you affected by this – according to our small survey – are opposed to the project. For you, there is a municipal election to anticipate.
From a personal level, I’m looking into returning to school part-time, and looking at ways to improve both my photography and the paper. Do readers want a heavier web presence at the expense of the print product? It’s a prospect we all face in the media industry, and I’m going to push that way very soon.
I’d also like to spend some time (if I can find it) actually getting some exercise. Another new year’s resolution.

For you, I hope you can savour the joys, find shelter from the storms (they’re coming), and see the light in the darkness. Just keep pushing and I’ll see you next year!

Alternative View
By Lance Crossley

My wife always makes fun of me after reading my columns because, as she says, “they are always such downers”. I can’t really argue with her on that one. But in my defence, I really am trying to call it as I see it. Anyway, she’s going to love this one. So without further ado, allow me to make my predictions for 2010.
My 2010 predictions can be summed up in one word: “insolvency”. To be insolvent is to be unable to pay one’s debt obligations. In my view, this trend will only get stronger on the individual, institutional, and state level.
Many countries are in serious financial trouble. Ireland’s public services have been drastically slashed with emergency budgets in an effort to pay its bills. Credit-rating agencies recently downgraded the credit-worthiness of Greece and Dubai. The U.S. and the U.K. have been warned of possible future downgrades.
The individual level is no better. In the U.S., bankruptcies are up by over 30 per cent so far in 2009. A similar story is emerging in Canada, albeit not as drastic.
My main concern, however, is with the banks. Western banks are so highly leveraged you can almost hear their top-heavy structures beginning to creak and crack. In the United States, over 130 banks have gone bankrupt in 2009. The top five Canadian banks are even more highly leveraged than the big banks in the states. According to a Sprott Asset Management report, these Canadian banks are leveraged at an average of 31:1, meaning a mere drop in their tangible assets of three per cent would effectively wipe out their worth.
The Sprott report suggests the only reason Canadians banks sidestepped the 2008 crash was because of a stealth government bail-out of $114 billion. It wasn’t called a bailout, of course; it was merely a “liquidity injection” courtesy of the Canada Mortgage and Housing Corporation ($65 billion), the Bank of Canada ($45 billion), and the Canada Pension Plan ($4 billion). Apparently all it takes to sedate the Canadian population is to change the terminology, or in the case of CPP, bury it on page 32 of your investment board’s 2009 annual report.
So the situation is risky even if you take their financial statements at face value. The problem is their financial statements, at least in the U.S. and Europe, are effectively “cooked”. The bank failures happening in the United States are quite revealing in this respect. Take the recent failure of AmTrust Bank, for example. It reported assets of $12 billion against deposits of $8 billion – not highly leveraged at all. Yet the government had to cough up $2 billion (25 percent) to cover people’s bank deposits. In other words, a large portion of their so-called “assets” were phony. This story is playing out again and again south of the border.
Whether the insolvency story is kicked further down the road or explodes in 2010 is anyone’s guess. But it is certainly something to watch out for. Happy New Year!

Advice from Mom
By Rita Lessard

Merry Christmas to one and all. This is one of my favourite times of the year. Most people are happy and cheerful at this time as they enjoy the company and goodness of their family and friends. At this time, I would like to share some Christmas trivia with you.

I’m sure most people are familiar with the traditional 12 days of Christmas. The Aussies interpret the song differently; here is the final verse:
On the twelfth day of Christmas, my true love gave to me,
Twelve goanna goin,
Eleven snakes a-sliding,
Ten dingoes dashing,
Nine wombats waddling,
Eight koalas clinging,
Seven emus running,
Six ‘roos a-jumping,
Five opals black,
Four great galahs,
Three parakeets,
Two cockatoos,
And a kookaburra up a gum tree.

I’m not familiar with some of these words; sorry, I’m from Montreal, so I don’t profess to know everything.
Let’s kiss under the what???
Did you know that the word mistletoe is an Anglo-Saxon word meaning dung on a twig? Apparently it was thought that life could spring spontaneously from dung. Mistletoe groups on tree branches, and since bird droppings are commonly found on tree limbs, the words mistel (meaning dung) and tan (meaning twig) thus blend to give you dung on a tree. True story.
Hey, it’s not as if you’re eating the stuff, just kissing under it, for heaven’s sake.
Apparently the tradition of midnight mass on Christmas originated in the belief that the Christ child was born at the stroke of midnight.
These trying times
Christmas can be frustrating sometimes. My greatest frustration was hiding the gifts so my kids would be surprised on Christmas Day. This, I’m sure, didn’t happen as long as Mike was around. It was amazing how he knew exactly what everyone was getting. Believe mem, I would wrap everything and code it some way or other, and that didn’t matter. I almost think he unwrapped and rewrapped everything. Since I’m not the sharpest knife in the drawer at this busy time of year, he got away with it for years until one day the cat was let out of the bag and I found out. From then, I took all the gifts to a neighbour’s house and didn’t bring them home until Christmas Eve.
If you have this problem and you don’t want to store your stuff at a neighbour’s, you might want to try this: use different wrapping paper for each member of the family. Gifts can be left in plain sight under the tree and no one will know which is theirs until it comes time to open them. No gift tags necessary!

Some people think that Christmas is like a day in the office: you do all the work and the fat guy in the suit gets all the credit.

Happy birthday to my brother Richard (27th) and my son Casey (16th), and happy anniversary to Bill and Christine (15th).

Overheard (as told by my friend Frank): Things are still bad in the banking industry. The other day, a lady went to the bank and asked the teller to check her balance, so he reached over and gave her a push.

Keeping the Peace
By Tom Lessard, C.D.

It all began about the middle of November. The weather was perfect for the harvesting of corn and beans, and the planting of winter wheat. Also, it was ideal for the installation of Christmas decorations. Dark evenings became brighter and brighter. First, one resident put up a couple of lights. His neighbour then, not to be outdone, put up a few more. Just like clockwork, the fellow across the street sees his chance to outdo the Joneses and erects lights and blown-up Santas or Scrooges. Sure enough, everyone gets in on the game and pretty soon we don’t require street lights. The majority of the houses have been well laid out, but as is to be expected, some go way overboard. I would imagine this lighting will take a downturn when the so-called “smart meters” come into use.

Electrical problems II
I looked forward to attending the annual lighting of the park in Exeter on a nice evening at the end of November; last year’s lighting was cancelled because of snow. It was disappointing, then, that it wasn’t better organized this year. The donated hot chocolate from Tim Horton’s must have been picked up too early because it was lukewarm, but it was appreciated and polished off nonetheless. The entertainment had a rough time getting the sound to work and so were set back half an hour. When they were able to get started, the countdown to the lighting began, 5-4-3-2-1. Nothing. Soon, the lights did come on. Actually, half of them lit and were followed by a loud bang. Eventually all came on, prompting oohs and ahhs from the kids. We couldn’t sing the two songs that followed because we didn’t know the words. Before the scheduled end time, I followed a large number of revelers to our cars.

The fix is in
This week, we were visited at our old municipal offices by a large delegation of electrical contractors. Maybe the work on our new community centre will begin soon. I’m looking forward to the completion of our recreational facilities in about 2011. If it turns out the way it’s planned, it will give Crediton and area residents something to cheer, deservedly after the mess we put up with these past few years.
I was hoping the new sewers would end the smells that sometimes permeate my house and those of my neighbours, but it seems that someone is still sending paint thinners and sewage into the storm drains. The smell of the thinner was so strong that I called the South Huron offices to send someone out. A man arrived, checked my house and basement, and went out front and lifted the manhole cover. He sniffed and said, “Yep, that’s paint thinner.” I asked him what I could do about it, and he told me to shove a rag into the drain hole, which I did. After a couple of days, the odour was gone. We still get occasional sewage stink through the house, but I’ve never heard back from South Huron. I don’t expect I ever will. Maybe when everyone west of me is hooked up, I won’t have that problem.
Merry Christmas!

View from the Strip
By Casey Lessard

I’m sure Gord Minielly is ready to let someone else be the front man (or woman) for the municipality after last month’s meeting to discuss the Lambton Shores sewer project. It’s a tough job and he has to do it. You can imagine why his health has suffered; more than 300 people attended the meeting, with most ready to fight him to the death over the project (only a slight exaggeration).
So what should residents do? It’s not for me to say. But I think the decision can only be made after the final numbers come out. If it’s more affordable than septic, doesn’t it make sense to share the burden among your neighbours? Sewers make a home more attractive to buyers, and housing prices go up as a result. I do understand Dick Matzka’s point about the cost of living pushing people out of the market here; I know I’ll likely never be able to afford a house here.
But when the provincial and federal governments are willing to invest in your community, it’s hard to say no. They sent money for the beach and money for the main street. If the money’s still there, it seems foolish to turn it down. But someone has to make the decision on how to spend it. Let’s make sure it’s an informed council. Election day, as Minielly reminded the crowd, is set for October 25, 2010.

Alternative View
By Lance Crossley

Here in Canada, we seem to think we are immune to a housing bubble, so it was interesting to see the Globe and Mail – usually a real estate cheerleader – at least question the logic of why we continue to experience a booming housing sector amid the greatest economic crisis since the Great Depression.
In an Oct. 30 article, the Globe wrote, “Canadians are in the midst of a mortgage binge, taking out home loans at a pace that’s nearly eight per cent faster than a year ago…housing prices don’t usually survive recessions.” While the article correctly points to the Bank of Canada’s record low interest rates as a primary culprit for the buying spree, nowhere in the article does it mention the other major culprit: the Canada Mortgage and Housing Corporation.

Too big to fail?
The CMHC provides insurance to the banks for the entire amount of any mortgage when the purchaser has less than a 20 per cent down payment. This is another way of saying that they insure virtually all mortgages, since the average down payment of Canadians who buy a home is only about six percent. With this CMHC guarantee, the banks have no risk when they issue mortgages. If the homeowner defaults, it is the taxpayer who is on the hook. We don’t have a name for “sub-prime” here in Canada because we don’t need one – the CMHC makes almost everyone a worthy borrower.
Some are starting to call the CMHC the northern version of Fannie Mae and Freddie Mac. By the end of 2009, the CMHC says it plans to insure a staggering $813 billion worth of mortgages and mortgage-backed securities. That is well over half of Canada’s entire GDP. If there is a northern version of “too big to fail”, the CMHC is it.

An untold story
The National Post’s Diane Francis, the only mainstream journalist I know to call out the CMHC, warns that “Ottawa’s smugness about its superior regulatory regime and Canadian banking conservatism” is an accident waiting to happen.
“It’s a mortgage slush fund which distorts the market,” Francis writes. “It allows banks to lend recklessly without consequences and pushes up the price of housing for everyone.”

Worse than America
One of the most astute observers of this quiet Canadian housing bubble is blogger Jonathan Tonge (www.americacanada.blogspot.com). Here s what he has to say:
“Even at the zenith of the US housing bubble, prices peaked around $230,000 US while incomes were around $47,000 US. In Canada, incomes are $44,000 and prices are now at $326,613. If I have evidenced to you at this point how risky our lending has been, how are we so different than America? One might even say that we are much worse.”
The voices that recognize we are indeed in a housing bubble are few and far between. It won’t be long before the rest of the public catches on.

Advice from Mom
By Rita Lessard

My wonderful sister Joan treated Tom and I to Remembrance Day dinner at the Grand Bend Legion November 7. We had a great time and the meal was, as usual, superb. Thanks, Joan.
On Wednesday November 11th, Tom and I were out again to celebrate Remembrance Day. This is such a solemn occasion and I always get teary-eyed when I hear the sorrowful sound of the bagpipes and when I sing ‘O Canada’. After the ceremony, we enjoyed some fellowship and a great luncheon provided by the hardworking Legion staff. Thank you so much. It was just swell.

A free lunch
On the lighter side, I heard this veteran telling a story while on leave after a year-long tour of duty in Korea. He said that his first craving when he got home to Canada was a meal at McDonald’s. Much to his surprise, the cashier took on look at his uniform and refused his money. “Thanks,” he said. “Sure,” she replied, “we never charge bus drivers.”

Blind man’s bluff
I’m not sure whether his second story was true or not, but you can be the judge:
Two female privates are ordered to paint the general’s office. They are warned not to get paint on their uniforms, so they lock the door, strip off their clothes and get to work. An hour later, there’s a knock at the door. “Blind man.” Seeing no harm in allowing him in, the privates open the door. “Hi,” says the man, “where do you want the blinds?”

Roadside assistance
On a more serious note, if you travel or commute in the winter, it is worth taking a little extra time and make sure you have an emergency kit in the trunk. You might want to include the following things:

• a good scraper;
• snow brush;
• blanket;
• hats & mitts;
• matches and candles;
• canned fruits and nuts, and a can opener;
• traction mats;
• small shovel;
• help sign and Call Police sign;
• and jumper cables.

Now would be a good time to do this, while the weather is still nice.

Bumper stumpers
When I was in a variety store a while back, I saw some bumper stickers. I’ll share them with you.
I have good brakes. Do you have good insurance?
I may be slow, I’m ahead of you.
If you can read this, I’ve lost my trailer.
Out of my mind – Back in five minutes.

Happy Birthday to Bill and Katie Lessard.

Keeping the Peace
By Tom Lessard, C.D.

I was privileged to attend the Grand Bend Legion’s Remembrance Day dinner on Saturday November 7.
My first order of business was to purchase a nice cold beer at the bar. Next was to find where Rita was sitting. My sister-in-law Joan, who volunteers at all of the occasions, directed me to the table, which was right in front of the head table. I’m usually the type who goes to church and sits at the back, so I felt hemmed in sitting in the front: too far from the bar. I felt embarrassed getting up and walking down the middle aisle for refreshments and back up to my seat with all the people eyeing me, so I didn’t. One beer to last me all through the evening? I don’t think so.
Anyway, after the guest pastor said grace, we made our way to the food tables. Legion members and guests are always so friendly and laid back at these functions. Even though everyone is hungry, no one pushes or complains if things don’t go as smoothly as they would like. Once the super volunteer ladies had everything in place, the lines began to move. Plates were filled – some with lots of food and others with less, depending on the individual. I just said, “Keep it coming,” because I didn’t have to cook it. The beef was cooked like no restaurant can do it. These ladies – God bless them – know how to put on a meal that has no equal.
After we were filled with food we were treated with the guest speakers thanking the veterans and those who never made it back to Canada. One speaker made reference to a Canadian who had travelled to France and at immigration he was asked for his passport. Fumbling for it in his pocket, the French officer said, “Don’t you Canadians know that you have to have your passports ready when you come to France?” The Canadian replied, “The last time I was in France was at Dieppe in 1944 and none of you Frenchmen stayed around to check my passport.”
The guest of honour was a young RCR corporal who had recently returned from a tour of duty in Afghanistan. This soldier did himself proud in his presentation. He shows us slides depicting the environment in which he served: pretty desolate. The conditions reminded me of my tour in the Gaza Strip in 1957. He spoke of the living conditions his unit was forced to put up with. The temperature change between day and night can be very disturbing. The ground does not absorb the heat like it does in Canada and therefore, it can drop from 50 C at noon to 15 C at 4 a.m..
He stressed that he and his comrades try very hard to represent Canada well to the locals, sometimes succeeding and sometimes not. They do think that they are making a difference.
Every year the Legion is making improvements to educate Canadians of the importance of remembering those who have and still do give their lives for all of us. I witnessed this in the number of school children attending the cenotaph ceremony on Wednesday.
I have one request: one of my uncles was torpedoed twice in the North Atlantic while working as a boiler man in a convoy heading for England. He was a civilian, but was never recognized by the government. We need to consider changing the rules for how civilians serving in the theatre of war are recognized for their contributions.

View from the Strip
By Casey Lessard

In the wake of Thanksgiving, it’s important to take a moment and consider what we’re thankful for. I’m thankful for the support I have for the work I do here and at home, support that comes from readers and my family.
I also want to send a message of thanks to my mentor Martha Perkins, who is leaving the Haliburton Echo (where I worked before returning to this area) after 24 years (more than half her life). As editor, she has won more than 60 provincial and national awards for her work, so you know I was trained by the best in the business. She’s moving to Vancouver to take an editor’s position at the Bowen Island Undercurrent. Best of luck, Martha.
She’s a big supporter of small towns, and gave me a sense of community. If you believe in community, too, vote for Grand Bend in the CBC Radio 2 SongQuest contest featured on pages 2-3. It’s a long-shot, but let’s try to win!

My apologies to the cast and crew of Our Choir’s the Pitts; a change in publication deadline meant I didn’t have a chance to promote or attend the play, but I hope it was a great success.

Alternative View
By Lance Crossley

I have said this before, but future generations will write about our time as a turning point in history. One major event that is attracting too little attention is the decline of the American dollar. To understand the importance of this we must first understand the dollar’s privileged status as the world reserve currency.
Gold used to be the anchor that gave paper money value; paper currency was freely convertible into a fixed quantity of gold. But since President Richard Nixon abandoned the gold standard in the early 1970s, the international money system is entirely based on fiat currency.
To fill the void gold left behind, the American dollar – due to its economic and military might – stepped into the role of world reserve currency. That meant other countries would stock up American dollars as “proof of value” for their own currencies. It also meant international transactions for commodities such as oil were all settled in American dollars.
This is starting to change, and quite rapidly.

The Independent, a British newspaper, reported on October 6 that Gulf Arabs were secretly meeting with China, Russia, Japan, and France to end dollar dealings for oil and replace it with a “basket of currencies” which would include the euro, gold, and the Chinese yuan. To give you an idea of the significance of this, one of the reasons America invaded Iraq so swiftly was because Iraq started to sell oil in euros instead of dollars – something America saw as a clear threat to the dollar’s status.
But this time, we aren’t talking about a rogue country. The ones staging a mutiny against the dollar are some of the most powerful countries in the world. (These countries have since denied the secret meeting, but at least one other reporter has confirmed with senior sources that this meeting did in fact happen. It is also worth noting that these countries have openly, and on the record, questioned the dollar’s reserve status numerous times over the last several months).
Another bad omen for the dollar is that it is now becoming the currency choice for the carry trade. The currency carry trade is a strategy of very wealth investors who borrow one currency and cash it in at a profit in another currency.
When the Asian crisis hit in the 90s, Japan set interest rates at zero percent. Carry traders borrowed Japanese Yen for free, converted it to dollars, and then bought U.S. government bonds that had interest rates of 4-5 percent. There’s your profit.
Now America is becoming the weak currency by which carry traders prey upon to cash in at a profit elsewhere.
Meanwhile, the U.S. will continue to recklessly print money in order to keep its economy on life support. The more money it prints, the more it devalues its currency. When the currency is devalued enough, countries like China will stop buying American debt. That will result in more money printing and, very possibly, hyperinflation.

Keeping the Peace
By Tom Lessard, C.D.

(Continued from last issue)
The saga of the sewers continued throughout the town with no end in sight. Rumours abounded that the sewers would be finished by December, and the road paved the following year. These optimists must have been talking about another town.
Once the sewers were laid and some paving done, we were told we could hook up. One resident, whose house is situated about 70’ back from the road, was having a bathroom installed in his basement. This required digging deep to make a hook up. The engineers must have misread his instructions because the hook up did not even come close to the sewer intake, which was much higher. The only solution was to dig up the road and put a new intake connection lower down on the main sewer. Unfortunately for the resident, his water was shut off so they could lay the pipes, and his septic tank had already been detached, so he and his wife had no bathroom facilities. The authorities told him to rent a “porta-potty”. Instead, he moved to his trailer for a few days.
For about a year, because of the sinkholes and settling of the roadway, we enjoyed a feeling of driving on a motocross track as we traveled to and from our home. Another year went by with no trucks or tourists going through town, which meant no business for our local gas bar and variety store.
To add to our woes, an inspector found cracks in our new bridge, and it had to be closed for repairs. Detours again.
When hook up time arrived, we were told we had nine months to complete the process, which involved getting estimates from different plumbers and contractors.
The best estimate for our house was $1500, while others were quoted $3000. Our contractor was quick, neat and clean, and took just over three hours to complete the job for $1400. Other people had estimates of as high as $9500. After contacting our contractors, they ended up saving close to $7000. Perhaps there was some greed involved? Some residents are still not hooked up.
Last July, we received a notice saying we had to choose how to pay for the sewer service: either cash up front, or over 20 years at six per cent interest. We had two weeks to comply. The deadline was on a Monday. One of my neighbours was away on holidays and didn’t get the notice until the Sunday before the deadline. Not enough time to arrange for the cash. Another senior citizen arrived at the municipal office the day after the deadline with money in hand and was told she was too late.
To add to her misery, this woman has been trying to sell her beautiful home for quite some time, but prospective buyers are turning away because of a messy property across the street. The same thing is happening in the east end of town, where a neighbour’s yard is littered with cars, trucks, machinery and household articles.
We are pursuing a way to bring to the attention of all residents the bylaws referring to keeping their residences and yards in neat, tidy and good repair. Bylaws are accessible at www.town.southhuron.on.ca under By-Laws: Property Standards 41-2002. Have a look, and then look at your own properties. Pat yourself on the back if you’re up to date.

Advice from Mom
By Rita Lessard

I hope everyone enjoyed the Thanksgiving holiday. We were lucky to celebrate this holiday twice: once with our sons Bill and Casey, their ladies, our two grandsons, my sister Joan and my brothers Richard and Bill. Then on Monday, we went to London and celebrated with Tom, Connie, Christopher and Katie. We have so much to be thankful for, and I’m sure everyone is grateful and gave thanks on Thanksgiving.
About two weeks before Thanksgiving I was lucky and won the jackpot at the Tuesday night Bingo. For this I gave thanks everyday. In fact, I’m thankful any day that I can get out of bed and take nourishment. I give thanks everyday, not just one day of the year. Although I was overjoyed with my winnings at Bingo, in my excitement I dabbed my slacks with my Bingo dabber. But I didn’t despair because I’m always doing research for my column. I discovered that if you have ball point ink that you went to remove, aerosol hair spray will do the trick. I figured it would work that same way with the dabber ink.
Try this technique: hold a rag under the fabric to blot the ink that comes through on the other side. Aim and spray. Then, put the clothing in the wash. The alcohol in the hair spray is what does the trick. It will also work on your hands, leather or plastic. This really works.
Any alcohol-based products seem to be able to to double duty. For instance, alcohol-based mouthwash can be used for more than swishing in your mouth. It also keeps your plants healthy. Fill one part mouthwash to three parts water in a spray bottle. Spray directly on your plants’ leaves and into the soil. Works like a charm. Have a small cut you need to disinfect? Dab the area with a mouthwash soaked cotton ball.
Looking forward
Hallowe’en is our next holiday. On this occasion, I kinda go nuts with decorations and sprucing up the yard and house. I really need to be careful and not buy goodies too early because I usually get things I like and the temptation can be a bit much.
Here’s an idea: if you use real pumpkin for your jack-o-lantern, try sprinkling some cinnamon, ginger and nutmeg on the inside of the lid. The heat of the candle will make this combination smell like pumpkin pie.

Watch your diet
Since Hallowe’en can play havoc with your diet, one needs to be careful. That brings me to my joke of the week. Jim grabbed his plate and walked up to the party buffet for the fourth time. “Aren’t you embarrassed to go back for so many helpings?” asked his wife. “Not a bit,” he replied. “I keep telling them it’s for you.”

View from the Strip
By Casey Lessard

I had the pleasure of driving up the coast a few kilometers with Chris Bregman of the chamber of commerce, business owner George Appel, and Lakeshore Advance editor Lynda Hillman-Rapley Friday. We took Chris’ van to Saugeen Shores to see what we thought they were doing right and wrong. It was an eye opener, more than anything, to see how it compares to Grand Bend. That was my main focus.
After spending the day in two communities, it was clear that Saugeen Shores – although a beach town, too – is more interested in the locals than the tourists. Sure, tourists come, and people I spoke with said they fill the beach, but there is no beach house, no splash pad, and no paid parking. You read that correctly.
They’ve built their town around the beach, but it’s a side salad to the main course: the business centre. And there are no t-shirt or tattoo shops (nothing against them), but plenty of restaurants (not fry shacks) and bars. Just like a normal small town. Not a beach town. Think Exeter with a lake where the river is.
So, is this a good thing or a bad thing? It seems like a shame not to embrace the beach and its tourism opportunities. But they have a beach and still bring tourists. How? Big events. International tourist events. Pumpkinfest vegetables have set world records in the past. Plus their Wikipedia site says National Geographic selected the town as one of the world’s prettiest sunsets (sound familiar?).
For people there, at least it seems by looking at the thriving locally focused businesses, the tourists are secondary to year-round residents. Sound good? Easier said than done.
Grand Bend is a beach town, and it is a tourist draw. We don’t have a major employer like the nuclear power plant, and I doubt we want one of those here. We’re too close to London to have key year-round businesses like bookstores and movie theatres. So, what do we do?
If I had my way, I’d see every downtown building owned locally with residential features to all of them. George Appel thinks main street living year-round will breed main street businesses year-round. I think he’s right. Let’s bring the tax base down low enough that people will see a profit, and let’s put by-laws into place that give the municipality some control over the appearance of main street facades. I’ve heard that Stratford does it, and look at their businesses.
If it’s going to work, it will take cooperation between businesses, building owners and the municipality. Is that possible?

Submitted by Brad Harness
Leader, Reform Ontario

First it was the scandal at eHealth Ontario over misspent public dollars, misallocated expenses monies, and inflated contracts. This resulted in resignations and firings.
Next up was the Ontario Lottery and Gaming Commission (OLG). More wrongdoing by the leadership with contracts and expense accounts, and that was after last year’s big blow-up over the unusually high winning ratio among the OLG’s lottery merchants. More firings and resignations.
Now we hear this week of questionable contracts at yet another Ontario agency, the Municipal Property Assessment Corporation (MPAC), which has earned the disdain of many Ontario property owners due to incorrect property valuations that have lead to significant property tax hikes and liabilities.
To stop these complaints, MPAC has been busy hiring consultants, it seems, which is all right. But they have been renewing and extending contracts well beyond what MPAC’s own regulations allow. In a report in the Globe & Mail, MPAC’s VP of corporate services acknowledged that its own draft audit report dated May 2009 uncovered problems with the agency’s procurement practices in 2005 and 2006. He went on to insist the report – the latest – is already out of date and such practices it pinpointed have been rectified. Maybe so.
The missteps included violating the rules for consulting work, which say that contracts can only be extended from their initial term by no more than twice the value of the original contract. The audit found that agency had extended contracts from 5 to 14 times their original value.
It is good that the report in question was MPAC’s own internal audit.
It is bad that MPAC is merely the latest Ontario agency to exhibit a lack of respect for taxpayers’ dollars. Government is supposed to treat such monies as sacred trusts, not sacred cows to be milked for everything from coffee to car washes, from meals on the town to dry cleaning.
While ministers of the crown need to be called to account for such extensive and ongoing problems, it is clearly our premier, Dalton McGuinty, who is the one to be held to account overall.
Ontario has over 600 agencies, boards and commissions, each one provided with budgets from tax coffers. True, they also provide revenues back to the government: just under five per cent of provincial government revenues annually. It is only a matter of time before more such scandals are revealed. And it is a matter that seems to be important to every voter, unless you are on an agency board or in a McGuinty cabinet post.

Advice from Mom
By Rita Lessard

Did you know that happy people are healthier than people who are always ticked off or negative? Maybe that’s why I’m so healthy. The happiest – and healthiest – time of my young life was when I was in school, so it must be true.
Some of my teachers didn’t appear all that healthy. Take, for instance, my Grade 10 history teacher Miss Carter. Now there was a case of unhappiness if I ever saw one. I’m not sure what her problem was, but I assume her students were at the root of her unhealthiness. Seeing as history was a study course, and a bit of a boring one at that, most of the students weren’t too ambitious. I recall the one day after we got our test results that Miss Carter was quite upset because most of the test results were pretty bad. I’m not bragging here, but my score was the highest in the class: 65 per cent. The next highest was 50 per cent, so I can understand why she was frazzled. That day must have brought her to the end of her rope because she said we all drove her nuts and if we didn’t smarten up, she was going to jump out the classroom window. Being the class clown, I jumped up and opened the window. She was too stressed to notice my offer, but my classmates got a chuckle out of it. That’s one case where humour can save your life.

Casey’s advice last week suggesting students should attend every class was right on the money, but sometimes I think teachers would prefer parents kept their children at home. My friend Diane had two sons who she admitted were kids from hell; they never gave her any rest. We all lived in the same apartment building in London, and Joey and Junior were always doing something that drove everyone nuts. Joey enjoyed hanging off the third floor balcony, which always gave us heart attacks. Junior wasn’t a daredevil, but he must have had a bladder problem because he was always peeing in the apartment stairwell.
The boys were in school for about a week, and I asked Diane how the boys liked it.
“Not too bad,” she said, “but I’m a little upset today.”
“How so,” I asked. “I’d think you’d be overjoyed to get a bit of a reprieve.”
“Well, I am,” she replied, “but I just got a call from Joey’s teacher complaining about his behaviour in class. Can you imagine the gall she has? He’s only been back to school and already she’s whining.”
I asked why that surprised her.
“It doesn’t surprise me,” she said, “but what annoys me is that I had Joey all summer and I never called her once to complain that he was misbehaving.”
The poor woman had a point.
Teachers, hang in there and keep smiling. Some days have to be better than others. Stay happy and healthy.

The Sunday school teacher was describing how Lot’s wife looked back and was suddenly turned into a pillar of salt.
“My mother looked back once while she was driving,” little Jamie contributed, “and she turned into a telephone pole.”

Keeping the Peace
By Tom Lessard, C.D.

Not long after Crediton’s bridge repair was finished and traffic resumed (but not back to the amount we had before the bridge was condemned), tenders were requested from all companies vying for contracts involved in the sewer project.
Finally, the shovels hit the ground. No financial aid was available with no prospects of any in the future; once you start to dig, no grants are available and you are on your own.
Slowly, the main drag was excavated, leaving the town a mess and traffic delayed and rerouted. “It’ll all be completed in a year,” we were told; fortunately for them, they didn’t stress which year that would be. There were plenty of engineers, foremen, heavy equipment operators, and even some labourers on the job from morning until night.
Daily, they ran into unforeseen snags: underground springs, sinkholes, and unknown pipes and wires were among the surprises. By the time they were halfway through town, Centralia was almost completed (by a different company).
As the project continued up to my area, as I was sitting on my porch reading a book and resting my feet and legs on cushions, I was suddenly pelted by rocks and water hurtling toward my house. I had to scramble to get my shoes on, pick up the cushions and chair and my book, open the door and squeeze inside. It was quite a chore and damp to boot.
I looked out my window to see what happened, and saw five people laughing at my stumbling efforts while standing over a hole on the north side, watching the eruption from the water line. Someone told me they didn’t realize there was a line at that location. It just so happened that I was the only one on the street sitting outside watching the entertainment, which led me to suspect that the break was planned.
What goes around, comes around. Later that year, they were working on a manhole in front of my sidewalk and the men needed some water. One of the crew went to the side of my house, took down my hose, brought it to the hole and tried to turn it on. Nothing happened. So, back he went to turn the tap up to full blast. Still nothing. I watched him return to the hole and hollered to Rita to run downstairs and turn the water on. You should have heard the hollering from the hole – no one was holding the hose! My turn to laugh.
To be continued…

Did you know that Exeter’s new radio station, MyFM 90.5 is on the air? Rita and I have listened for a couple of days and so far found it pleasurable. Easy listening music, local news, and talented DJs. Keep up the good work, MyFM.

Alternative View
By Lance Crossley

In his weekly radio and Internet address this past weekend, U.S. President Barack Obama lashed out against critics making “phony claims” about his health care reform bill. He urged “an honest debate, not one dominated by willful misrepresentations and outright distortions”.
To be sure, the debate on health reform south of the border has been hotly debated. Angry crowds have jammed into town hall meetings across the country. At some of these meetings, the confrontations have even turned physical. Some people call the reform bill socialist, others call it fascist. The problem is that there has been a lot of emotion but not a lot of context.
One of the central features of the bill is the idea of saving dollars through the targeted cost-cutting of Medicare, a government health insurance plan available for Americans 65 and over. These cost-cutting proposals were inspired by some controversial studies at the Dartmouth Institute for Health Policy and Clinical Practice. The studies wowed people in the Obama circle by showing how government could cut Medicare spending by hundreds of billions without affecting quality of healthcare delivery.
How did they arrive at these conclusions? The studies found that when it came to end-of-life care, some regions spent more than others on Medicare. The “great discovery” was that the ones that spent more had no major difference in patient outcome than the lesser spending regions. To make a long story short, the Dartmouth Institute championed these lower spending regions as models that should be emulated by the rest of the country. The higher-spending regions, according the studies, have no justification for spending more because other regions get the same results with less. Therefore, there should be essentially the same budget ceiling applied to all care across the country.
Sounds reasonable, right? But hold on a second. One glaring omission in this study is that it fails to take into account data such as the economic status of the patients. For example, the least expensive medicare facility in America is the Mayo Clinic in Rochester, Minnesota. The most expensive facility is found at the New York University Medical Center. Huge socio-economic differences between these two areas were simply ignored in the Dartmouth studies, even though it is well known that economic conditions have a huge impact on health. For example, lower-income people are more vulnerable to chronic diseases, which are extremely costly to treat. The study also didn’t take into account the amount of family support a patient has, which is important because those with more help at home can have more home-care rather than rely on expensive overnight stays at the hospital.
If this cost-cutting proposal is passed in the reform bill, the poorest are the most likely to suffer. While President Obama laments his critics, one wonders whether he has been critical enough of the ones advising him.

To the Editor,
Here’s a bit of verse I wrote about ten years or so ago,  With the upcoming enhancement and change in the appearance of Main St., I thought it might be appropriate.

Ageless Grand Bend
 
Every weekend, rain or shine,
People flock in cars so fine,
Lining up with engines running,
Hoping soon they’ll all be sunning
On our beaches, vast and sandy,
Cheek by jowl, and often randy!
Red and burning, sleek with lotion,
Coolers full of “magic potion”.
Later on they cruise our Main Drag,
Check the shops, the games, then brag
How until six their party ran.
(Sleeping an hour in an old sedan!)
On the sidewalks, road and front lawn
Cups and plates and forks get thrown down
Flow’rs get torn and tossed around,
Dying on the grungy ground!
Miraculously, The Bend maintains
It’s own mystique. And see those stains?
Those blots you walk on everywhere?
Your Grandpa dropped his bubblegum there!
Oh! Oh! New plans will pave it over.
Century-old stains go undercover.
These paving stones – a fresh new page
How will they fare in this bold new age?
 
(The last four lines were added today.)
Cheerio,
Marie Strapp (via email)

To the Editor,
I, too, attended the library room meeting a few Thursdays ago to see the plans that are going forward. It was clear political types and designers were going through the required motions of ‘public input’ and ‘public participation’ to get on with it as soon as they can to capture the much revered infrastructure/stimulus money from other levels of government.
The first $2.5 million comes from the provincial and federal tax base (Editor’s note: prior reports stated the total cost was $2.6 million, but the Lambton Shores municipal website now says that is the amount of funding received); the tremendous funding balance will come from our municipal tax base. It’s very much a Larry the Cable Guy program: Git R Done now or lose the lion’s share of this found cash.
As I type this letter, I am sitting in Grand Bend’s most popular meeting place (Tim Hortons). Wouldn’t it have been creative to have exposed these plans to the people over the last three months by using some wall space?
We might have then seen the green spaces and proposed trees, etc., and been able to compare the green spaces drawn on the beach enhancement sketches and ask if the green would be the same brown spaces of excessive mulch ground cover employed in that glorious job. One might have asked with the reduced parking at the beach whether we can really afford another “just 20 parking space loss” on Main Street?
Like any good plastic surgery clinic, the town has the deposit so let’s get on with the face lift. And as I head next door for breakfast at a business far from the pending minor distraction this enhancement work will be, I think about a good omelette: if they break some eggs, let’s hope we don’t end up with scrambled eggs when served up by reopening in June 2010.
Robert Webb (via email)
(see lambtonshores.ca for draft proposal)

Advice from Mom
By Rita Lessard

On Tuesday, August 18, Tom and I attended the annual chicken barbecue for the Crediton Zion Church. This event is always well attended, and a lot of fun with plenty of food and good fellowship. It’s so nice living in a small town, knowing so many people and hearing the stories about the health and welfare of the many friends one has acquired over the years. I find that a lot of gossip is spread at these affairs, and although the women probably hold the record for being gossipy, the men seemed to be just as good. As a matter of fact, I was listening to a conversation with two very humorous gentlemen.
“So Gerry,” the one man said. “I met Gladys the other day on main street.”
“Oh, ya,” Gerry replied. “I hear she hasn’t been feeling too well.”
“I don’t know about that,” said the other fellow. “When I mentioned that I had heard about her being bedridden, her reply was, ‘Hardly. I haven’t been bedridden since my husband died five years ago.’”
That Gladys always was a cracker.

Sports injuries
My best regards for a speedy recovery for my young friend Tanya, who fell off her bike and now has her arm in a sling. It’s so sad because she will be out of action for a while; there go her golfing and slo-pitch seasons.
My mother was quite active in her day, but wasn’t exempt from injuring her limbs. I recall the evening she had a bowling date and put her knee out.
This was a fluke of an accident. As she was wiggling into her girdle, she somehow veered right when she should have gone left, and snap, the knee went out of place.
“Darn,” she exclaimed, “this will never do.” Always quick thinking, she just gave her knee a good whack and put it back in place. There, good as new, and she went on to bowl the best game of the season. Feisty, that mother of mine. Lord only knows how she could bowl in that contraption in the first place. I guess fashion was important. Comfort must have been secondary. You certainly wouldn’t want to pass gas. It wouldn’t have anywhere to escape. Like they say, “Nowhere to run. Nowhere to hide.”

This week’s tips

Keeping the Peace
By Tom Lessard, C.D.

It all began many many moons ago. This is the saga of the bridge, sewers and roads.
“We need a new bridge,” they said. “And your septic systems are shot, and have to be replaced by sewers.”
Detour signs began going up, which meant there would be no entry or exit at the east end of town. Jordy’s Gas Bar immediately felt the brunt of this move as there was no through traffic. This detour had one positive effect on the town. The “race track” (the main road) was virtually shut down and there was no loud truck noise. One negative effect was that, as my wife and I have to clean the Huron Park Post Office, we were obliged to go down Parr Line to Mt. Camel Road and turn left at Airport Line to get to Huron Park (quite the detour).
We took up residence in Crediton on November 8th, 2002; first-time home owners we were. Two weeks later, we received a notice in our front door inviting us to a meeting at the town hall that would explain everything we needed to know about the upcoming installation of sewers. No one had told us of this project prior to this. It was a bit of a shock to find out that it was going to cost us up to $20 000 per lot. From what I have been told by many residents of the town, this sewer project had been in the planning since 1995. Prior to amalgamation there was, so I’ve been informed, $1 million in a fund in the Stephen Twp. budget for just such a project, but that money disappeared when we were taken over by South Huron. At the meeting we were told that requests had been made to COMRIF for federal and provincial assistance to cover two-thirds of the cost, leaving us to pay the remaining third. This would have been no real hardship to most Creditionites. It sounded good, especially to those whose septic tanks were in bad shape. We organized the citizenry of both Crediton and Centralia after we were told that there would be no COMRIF funding because the fund had been depleted.
The push was on. Signs were made up with “No Grants. No Sewers” inscribed on them. Most of the households of both villages attended the next council meetings to voice our displeasure with the powers that be over their caving in to the MInistry of Environment to push the sewers through without any financial aid coming in. I even had sign boards, which I wore, and paraded around in front of the town hall. It didn’t do us a lot of good. It was no money out of councillors’ pockets (all residents of other towns), so they didn’t seem to be bothered by our woes. Projects will proceed with utmost speed.
Thank God for Diane Faubert Tripp. She took it upon herself to make an appointment with the provincial Finance Minister, who was going to be in Goderich. From him, she received $1 million to be shared by the homeowners in both villages, amounting to $3500 per house.
You get a get a gold star in heaven for your efforts, Diane.
To be continued….
Happy Birthday Millie Lessard and Patsy Gray. You both look just as pretty as you did 60 years ago. Love you both.

Alternative View
By Lance Crossley

On July 23, Bank of Canada governor Mark Carney announced that the recession was coming to an end. On July 29, President Obama said things have gotten better: the United States had prevented a depression and this was the beginning of the end of the recession. On August 3, a Bank of Montreal economist said the U.S. recession will end in the third quarter. And on August 5, the front page of The Toronto Star declared “Economy on the Rebound”. Leaders, experts, and media have announced in unison that all is well with our economy.
What a steaming pile of horse doo-doo.
The facts tell a very different story. Everything hinges on the United States’ ability to generate growth but there just isn’t any credible evidence that will happen. Now that the housing bubble has burst, the next shoe to drop is the commercial real estate market. Banks have postponed this day of reckoning by extending commercial loans instead of foreclosing, but how long this can go on is anybody’s guess.
Unemployment is officially at almost 10 percent now. Unofficially, some reputable analysts have it at almost twice that figure because of the skewed methods the government uses in its calculations. Either way, unemployment benefits are running out for many Americans, with the New York Times reporting as many as 1.5 million jobless will see their benefits end by Christmas.
State tax revenues have experienced their biggest fall since records began 45 years ago. Virtually every state is insolvent, most notably California, which has had to make draconian cuts to avoid bankruptcy.
Railroad carloads, which carry goods and are an accepted reflection of economic vitality, are down 22.5 percent since 2006. Retail sales are slumping. Consumer spending is tightening despite government efforts to stimulate credit. Even the Bank for International Settlements, which acts as a global central bank, has warned that the fiscal stimulus packages are only a band-aid and will be followed by an “extended period of economic stagnation.”
Most ominously, countries like China and Russia are starting to show signs they will no longer support America’s debt by buying its government bonds and treasury bills. If this happens, the dollar will plummet and American standard of living will drastically fall, as everything they import will becoming significantly more expensive.
So why all the optimism about emerging “green shoots” in the economy? Their hope is largely based on the rise of stock markets, which have rebounded greatly since bottoming out in March. But this climb can be attributed to Federal Reserve Chairman Ben Bernanke, who has expanded the monetary base by $1 trillion with fresh money. This new money has not been directed into productive purposes; rather it has been channelled straight into tradable assets. As a July 16 Wall Street Journal article pointed out: “In other words, Ben Bernanke has been the market.”
Where is it all headed? I wouldn’t be at all surprised to see another stock market crash as early as this fall, following the end of the American fiscal year when the final numbers come through and investors can see the bigger picture. Even if that day is postponed, the economy’s cheerleaders won’t be able to hide the reality forever.

Advice from Mom
By Rita Lessard

“Hello, Complaints Department. Rita speaking. How may I help you?” This is my new line, and I feel justified in saying this because anytime there’s a complaint, it is inevitably addressed to me. Some people have an ear for music; I have an ear for complaints. I can live with this role, but sometimes the complaints are a bit much.
For instance, take the beautiful warm weather we’ve had in the last few days. Would you believe people are complaining it’s too hot? I swore in May, June and July that I would slap the first person who complained about the sunny weather. However, I’m not generally a violent person, so I had to restrain myself a few times. Enjoy this weather people because I’m sure it won’t last that long.
Working with the public I have people complaining all the time. I have one customer who gets a large coffee with four milks and three sugars, and then complains that the coffee is cold. For a few weeks this was an ongoing complaint, so I created a science experiment – there a science to making coffee – to solve this problem. The next time this order came in, I put four small milks in the coffee, nuked it and then give the customer a couple of take out milks on the side. Problem solved. One happy customer.
After many years of marriage, my friend Bev complained that her husband Ted was no longer as romantic as he once was. For instance, the other day she and Ted were walking through the park and noticed a young man and a woman sitting on a bench passionately kissing. Inspired by the way the man was kissing his partner, Bev turned to Ted and asked him why he didn’t do that. Ted replied, “Dear, I don’t even know that young woman.”
Some complaints can be fixed and others can’t. You have to pick your battles. Customers think I’m a soft touch because they always come to me or they’ll call and ask for me. This is fine because I lead them to think that the customer is always right whether they are or not. It’s much easier to make them happy by apologizing for the wrongs done to them than it is to argue and waste time. Replace their order and offer them a free donut and let them be on their ways. Easy night!
Some helpful hints on some common complaints:

• Keep counters cat-free – If your kitty loves to jump onto your counter, try this trick. Put a few aluminum baking pans on the top of the counter – the noise will stop your cat doing it again.
• My friend Sharon’s dog encountered the wrath of a nasty skunk. Her mother suggested she get a small bottle of peroxide, mix it with half a box of baking soda and a tablespoon of dish detergent. Brush this mixture on the dog and rinse with warm water. I hope this works. I just got this problem solver about and hour ago, so I hope it worked for Sharon.
• With the nice weather come the mosquitoes, and other insects. Pin a used fabric softener sheet to your skirt or clip some to the bottom of chairs and tables. The bugs will fly elsewhere.

Happy birthday to my daughter-in-law Christine – August 15th.

P.S. The next issue will have the results of Sharon’s dog’s dilemma.

Tales from the 2009 Lessard reunion

Keeping the Peace
By Tom Lessard, C.D.

My Sunday morning began at 2:45 a.m. when I woke to a bright light shining through my main floor bedroom window. I first thought that someone had forgotten to turn off the ballpark lights, which are directly across the street from my house. I got up and looked out the window and saw a black pick-up truck sitting in the park driveway. While I watched, the truck pulled out and drove away. The strange thing about this incident is that our main street had just had new curbs poured on Friday afternoon. There were pylons posted across the entrance to the park, and on either side of the curb were ditches across which the average vehicle would not dare to traverse. This person did, driving over and flattening the pylons. At seven a.m. when I crossed the road to water the Communities in Bloom planters, I put the pylons back up in their original locations and went back home. After breakfast (about an hour later), I went back out to sit on the porch and read a book. I glanced across the road and saw that, lo and behold, the pylons had been moved off the roadway and another nut had driven in and out again. These pylons are regarded about as much as the stop sign at Crediton Rd. and Airport Line. Lots of people don’t stop. Many don’t even slow down.
Anyway, at 11 a.m. Rita and I loaded into her sister’s van and headed out to Wildwood Park near St. Marys for my family’s ninth biennial reunion. The rain was so heavy on the Kirkton Road that I thought we might have to pull over. By the time we arrived at the campground, the rain had slowed to a drizzle. Thankfully, the area we rented had a pavilion.
It was great to once again see all of our brothers, sisters, nieces, nephews, cousins and in-laws. One cousin came from Houston, Texas; other family members came from as far away as Calgary. Mike’s in-laws came from Sudbury and camped for the weekend.
The sun came out and brought the heat and heavy humidity that we often see this time of year. The games began with all types of fun for everyone. I entered the water balloon toss, but was quickly ejected (arthritis set in and I dropped the balloon. This is my excuse and I’m sticking to it!). My grandson was my partner for the next game, and we won second prize.
I was sitting in my chair having a beer and watching all the antics going on when Ryan approached and asked me to be his partner for the three-legged race. He told me to stay where I was, and lend him my artificial leg. That was easily done. He took my leg and with my sister’s help, he tied it to his leg. He didn’t realize how heavy it was until the race was over. It was the easiest medal I’ve ever won.
My sister Pat made a beautiful large cake with a portrait of my father and his nine sisters in the icing. One half of the cake was made white, and the other chocolate, so you could have a choice.
There were draws for plenty of prizes which family members donated to raise money to cover the costs of the 2011 reunion. As is tradition, the day ended with a family photo.
A wonderful time was had by all. Parting is such sweet sorrow.

Happy anniversary to Tommy and Connie. Happy birthday to Brenda MacDonald.

Alternative View
By Lance Crossley

(The last in a four-part monetary system series)

It is astonishing to see how little the idea of monetary reform is up for political debate. Nevertheless, there is a small but growing chorus of voices offering an alternative vision to our money system. Here are a few of the more realistic proposals I have encountered. While none is a panacea, each is capable of improving the current system.

Return Bank of Canada to its former glory
Canada’s central bank was created in 1935 and nationalized three years later. It is supposed to be owned by the public in the interest of the common good. In effect, however, it has become a vehicle of Bay Street bankers. It wasn’t always that way. From WW2 until the early 1970s, money creation was shared by the private banking system and the government (through the Bank of Canada). The central bank would lend government money with what amounted to an interest-free loan. This paid for massive undertakings like the war and costly infrastructure projects like airports and the Trans-Canada Highway. This “government created money” would eventually find its way into the private banks, which would then use the cash as its reserve base to lend to businesses and individuals. In the words of Paul Hellyer, a former Trudeau cabinet minister: “It was the system that gave Canada the best 25 years of the 20th century.”

The 100 per cent reserve system
The modern banking system is based upon the “fractional reserve” scheme created by the goldsmiths in the 17th century. For a small fee, goldsmiths held people’s gold in safes and provided the depositor with a receipt that was good as gold in the marketplace. The goldsmiths soon noticed that only 10-20 percent of their clients would redeem their gold at any one time. This meant they could “safely” lend gold at interest many more times over the amount they actually had in the vault – as long as they held at least 10 percent reserves. This deception worked as long as people trusted there was actual gold backing their paper receipt. Mandating a 100 percent reserve requirement on banks would take away their money creating privileges and prevent runs on banks like the one we witnessed last fall in the United States.

Local currencies
Bernard Lietaer, a former Belgian central banker, argues that people and corporations are actually competing for money, not markets and resources. That is why he and a growing number of activists are promoting the idea of local currencies, which can circumvent the need for legal tender. The idea is that as long as there is an agreement between two people, paper money doesn’t matter. For example, in Ithaca, New York, community members can use time credits to shop at the farmer’s market or even pay rent. Farmers and landlords can use the pledged “hours” to get help with the harvest or building maintenance.

While all of these ideas differ in their application, they share the common belief that the money system has gotten away from us and has become detrimental to the common good. Perhaps Lietaer says it best: “We’ve forgotten that we designed it, and it’s now leading us around.”

Advice from Mom
By Rita Lessard

Last week, our son Glenn brought his daughters Olivia and Abby for a two day visit. Since Tom has been having trouble with his leg, he stayed home while we went to Grand Bend for a great time on the new and improved beachfront. Tuesday night we went to the Star-lite Drive-In in Shipka to see the latest Harry Potter movie. I have never had the chance to see any of these movies, so it was quite a treat.
At the drive-in, Glenn impressed me with his ingenuity. In the past when we went to the drive-in, we always had to put the windows up because of the mosquitoes and other pesky insects that would invade us. Before Glenn went to the movie, he bought some window screening, cut out the pattern of his windows, and just before the movie started, he taped the screening to the open window. We all enjoyed an insect- and condensation-free night with the breeze flowing through the screening. What a neat idea.
Glenn’s pretty smart. He also gave me a tip for my coffee-drinking customers. He said that in order to prevent spilling his coffee while he’s driving, he inserts the lid tab inside the cup instead of the outside, thus drinking the coffee as opposed to wearing it. I guess it works because I suggested this trick to a lady customer who asked for a straw to drink her coffee, and she said a truck driver told her that that was what he did. Who knew?

Gardening hurts your knees?
Make kneepads with newspaper. After you’ve read the Grand Bend Strip, save it and use it in this way (Ed: Mom! My precious paper!). Fold enough newspaper to make a thickness of one inch, wrap tightly with a cloth or plastic bag and seal the open ends with duct tape. Voila. Knee pads!

Outdoor tools rusty?
Metal tools left on a damp lawn or stored in a humid garage can quickly develop rust. To clean them, dip the metal portion in a pot of cider vinegar for 24 hours. Remove and wipe with a clean dry rag. Rust will come off easily.

Our society is too automated
Have you ever noticed that when a traffic signal turns green, it automatically activates the horn of the car behind you?

Found in The Sun magazine:
Pete was telling a friend that he had just lost his job. “Why did the foreman fine you?” the friend asked in surprise.
“Oh,” Pete said, “You know how foreman are. They stand around with their hands in their pockets watching everybody else work.”
“Sure,” replied his friend, “But why did he let you go?”
“Jealousy,” answered Pete. “All the other workers thought I was the foreman.”

Keeping the Peace
By Tom Lessard, C.D.

My family moved from Windsor to Waterloo in 1944 because my dad was starting a new job. Since my siblings always told me that I was adopted and that I was a German, it didn’t sit too well with me living a German community during World War II. But I struggled through it.
It was winter when we arrived, and we had seen no snow in Windsor. What a pleasant surprise. As I was only seven years of age, I wasn’t very tall and the snow piles were over my head. Our house was on a hill on Allen St. W., so it was no problem to fly down the street on our sled for about three blocks.
Most of the schools had outdoor rinks. If we wanted to skate or play hockey, we had to scrape the ice, and sometimes help to flood. There was a shed with a potbelly stove where we could thaw out our skates, as well as our feet, which were usually frozen after a short time on the ice. Our school had a hockey team, and when I was old enough, I tried out and was accepted as goalie. I also played in the bantam team. I wasn’t the best, but I put in a good effort. Our house was on a corner, so on the side street Bill Lavigne and I played a lot of shinny – almost everyday. Winter was a wonderful time of the year, even though I had to do a lot of shoveling and ice chopping.
Summer was good, too. Kitchener had an outdoor swimming pool that which was quite far from our home, but if we left early enough, we’d get there for opening. Most of our time at the pool was spent lying on our towels, soaking up the sun so we could get a sunburn. We knew that after the peeling of our skin was over, we usually ended up with a tan. Nobody told us about the perils of cancer.
One time, my older brothers took me to Waterloo Park to swim in the lake. I didn’t know how to swim yet, and could only dog paddle for a short distance. I got out too far to get back. Luckily Billy Armstrong saw me and dove off a platform and rescued me. From that experience, I forced myself to quickly learn how to swim.

Sunday, the Lessards will enjoy a biennial tradition as my siblings and their families meet at Wildwood Park in St. Mary’s for a reunion.

View from the Strip
By Casey Lessard

We’ve been through this process before, but now that funding is coming through, it seems a good idea for anyone interested in the future of Grand Bend to attend next week’s meeting concerning the Main Street Enhancement Project that is set to be completed by next summer. The meeting is Thursday, August 13 from 4 to 7 p.m. at Grand Bend Public School.
I’ve talked about this in the past, but I think it’s important for you to attend to have your say on a project that will change the face of the Main Street for years to come. The project will likely consist mostly of roadwork and new sidewalks, but there are always surprises.

I actually took two days away from the paper this week, spending time at Anjhela’s cousin’s camp on the Bruce Peninsula. It was heavenly. Even the busiest small business owner should take a day away during the summer to appreciate the weather and our fortune in living here. Even a day at the Pinery, which we do often in the winter, is a nice respite from the business of staying busy.

View from the Strip
By Casey Lessard

I am delighted to see that – so soon after the beach enhancement project – Lambton Shores has received $2.6 million in economic stimulus funding to rework Grand Bend’s Main Street. The work will involve burying above ground hydro wires, and replacing curbs. Work begins in September and ends next May.
As you may be able to guess, most interesting to me was the note that the sidewalks will be replaced to improve access to stores for people using wheelchairs. Lambton Shores has been actively pursuing this for a long time, but – as reported in this paper last summer – the main street has a long way to go before it is wheelchair accessible. There are large steps into entryways, bumps in the sidewalk, and the curbs are often impossible to navigate.
This project is a long time coming, and hopefully it will be done right the first time. I expect some stores will remain inaccessible, but hopefully they are the minority. The next step is to fix the insides of the stores, where access is limited by inside steps, and by clothing racks and other impediments to access. The municipality can’t do much about those; hopefully the storeowners read our survey last year to see where they need to help.
By the way, to be reminded of the results, see our 2008 Wheelchair Report.

Alternative View
By Lance Crossley

(Part three of a four-part series examining the monetary system.)

Another danger of having a money system controlled by private banking interests is something relatively new in our history: the financialization of the economy.
Before the 1970s, capital was mostly used for economically fruitful purposes, such as production. Banks still had undue influence on society because of their license to create money and charge you interest for that right, but at least the money was loaned for more or less productive purposes.
Since then, things have reversed. Most money today is directed to what economists call the “derivatives market”. Whereas traditional investing has revolved around advancing money for economically productive endeavours, the derivatives market is about betting on whether an economic endeavour will go up or down. Speculators can bet on anything from stocks, bonds, even currencies. Derivatives can also be bought and sold as a form of insurance to “hedge” one’s risky bets.
In other words, most money is flowing toward a global casino that doesn’t care if the economy succeeds or fails. In fact, a privileged few can profit greatly when it fails.
Whereas finance used to support industry and the real economy; it is now there to cannibalize it. As Ellen Brown, author of Web of Debt, explains: “Derivatives are basically just bets, which vacuum up value without producing anything.”
According to Sprott Asset Management, a respected Toronto-based brokerage firm, the total nominal value of the global derivatives market is a mind-boggling $743 trillion. As Eric Sprott, the company’s CEO points out, that is equivalent “to more than 11 years of everything the world produces. It is far and away the largest asset market the world has ever known.”
To make matters worse, the derivatives market places bets with a high proportion of borrowed money from banks (i.e. bank created money).
Borrowing money for derivatives can be hugely profitable when riding a market bubble, but devastating when the legalized pyramid scheme comes tumbling down. It is worth noting that the massive Wall Street bailouts were largely devised to cover irresponsible bets made in the derivatives market.
Noam Chomsky, the great American intellectual, recently said to me in an email: “The financializaton of the economy in the 1970s was a major event, in my judgment…more important in world affairs than the collapse of the USSR.”
If this is true, then we are truly in the midst of historic times. As of now, the Obama administration has gone to great lengths to preserve the financial economy. His economic “reforms” announced in June were basically written by the banking industry and only served to illustrate that big banks have no interest in changing their financial games. Why would they? As it stands now, they profit greatly in “good times” and have the taxpayer to cover their losses in bad times.
There is zero risk if you are a big bank these days. The same is unfortunately not true for the majority of people who reside in the real economy.

Advice from Mom
By Rita Lessard

Congratulations to my young friend Tanya, who has accepted a marriage proposal from her boyfriend Rubin. The happy couple will soon be out searching for the right engagement ring. I hope Rubin is prepared to spend a bit of cash. When Tom purchased my ring, it cost him $200, but that was 47 years ago and I imagine the prices have gone up since. And this is just the start of the money spending thing.

Made of money? Yeah, right!
Did your mother ever say to you, “Do you think I’m made of money?” or “Do you think money grows on trees?” Well, I always knew the answer to both of those expressions was no because there was no way I was getting money out of my mother. First of all, we lived in a poor neighbourhood with very few trees, and if you looked at my wise mother, you knew she wasn’t made of money. Not that she was cheap; she just didn’t have any. They say a fool and his money are soon parted, but my mother was no fool and therefore, there was no parting with her money.

Criminal activity
I’ve often heard the term drug money. They must be talking about the health care system, because if you don’t have a good drug plan, you’ll certainly be out of luck and money very quickly when you have a problem. Drug money must be pretty lucrative for doctors, now that they’ve become the best providers of drugs. I think it’s fair to say that unless you’re blessed with good health, you’ll need lots of drug money.
I’ve always been a big fan of money laundering schemes. I recall doing my son Bill’s laundry one day when I came across a $20 bill. Eureka! However, my happiness was short-lived after Bill realized he’d left the money in his pocket, shouting down the stairs, “Ma, did you find the $20 I left in my pocket?” What else could I do but reply emphatically, “Yes, Bill.”
Bill has always kept a good eye on his money. He’s very generous, be he ponders every purchase he’s going to make and seems to enjoy dickering to get the best deal. No fool, that boy!
Most people trust their money to the banks, and that’s a good thing for my son Glenn, who is a banker. I always knew that would be the business for Glenn. I recall a time when he was three years old and he had a dime in his hand. I said, “Glenn, give mommy that money.” He stubbornly replied, “No.” As I approached to retrieve the darn coin, he shoved it in his mouth and swallowed it. His first deposit! Who knew? He could have gone into the sanitation business, considering he was a devil to potty train, but I guess banking won out in the end.

You don’t know your math
Bill and Glenn seem to have a pretty good handle on the money situation; perhaps they take after me, because I can spend and save as good as the best of them. I remember when I was young, I was asked a math question: “Rita, if you have $2, and you asked your mother for $4, how much would you have?” “Oh,” I replied, “that’s easy. Two dollars.”
“Huh,” was the reply, “that’s wrong. You certainly don’t know your math.”
“Oh yeah?” I said. “Well, you certainly don’t know my mother.”

Advice for the week:
Having trouble sleeping? Try eating pitted fruit like cherries, plums, peaches, etc.

Keeping the Peace
By Tom Lessard, C.D.

I think it was 1969 that word came down from the top that the battalion was going to fly to Jamaica for a month of jungle training. This was during the month of March, as I recall.
After all the paperwork was done, we held QM parades to issue jungle gear, suntan lotion, and anything else the army felt we would require.
You won’t believe the job that was set aside for me! Bobby Somerville and I were to run the wet canteen under the supervision of Sgt. Joe Crosky. No climbing mountains or sweltering in the jungle for us.
Anyway, we trucked to the London airport and were loaded onto Hercules aircraft. Man, Oh Man! They are a beautiful piece of military equipment. We were seated in bucket seats along the walls, as in the centre were vehicles and other gear. We had a super flight with good weather. Over Florida, the pilot took the plane down so that we could see the coastline and all the sandy beaches.
Arriving in Jamaica, we were greeted at the Kingston airport. Because of an upcoming election, no one was allowed to go into the city (too much trouble brewing).
We were marched to awaiting Buffalo aircraft, which are a smaller version of the Herc, and transported over the mountains to a banana plantation in the northeast sector of the island. The Buffalo can land on a very short runway, which it had to do.
The plantation, we were told, belonged to a Canadian who allowed the government to use it. Our tent was situated under palm trees right at the edge of a beach. What a great spot. I had only seen places like this in the movies.
If we wanted to go to town, we had to get a pass and hop a truck to Port Antonio, which was only about a half hour drive. Bobby and I had to go there a few times to pick up supplies of ice or dry-cleaning. There was generally a cruise ship in the harbour. Some of the guys had a field day as shopkeepers took Canadian Tire money at par.
That month was probably the easiest and most relaxing during my career. We were not very happy about leaving, but could not complain too much since we had missed a month of Canadian weather. Most of the guys had acquired a pretty good tan and looked relaxed.
The army in those days was a pretty good experience. Next up: getting ready for a second tour of Cyprus.

View from the Strip
By Casey Lessard

I want to send my gratitude to everyone who came to my art exhibition opening over the weekend. It was not only a pleasure to see old faces, but also to see the silent supporters who had never previously said hello. I had people visiting from as far away as England and Denmark (thanks for coming Darren). I am especially grateful to the few, including the Brits, who supported me by buying my work; you know who you are, and I hope others follow your example. It proves to me that the work I’m doing is valued, so thank you very much.
Thank you also to Anjhela for performing, and to Tony and Lorraine for hosting. As always, my mom is my biggest fan, so thank you especially. The show continues until the 26th, so be sure to stop by Bliss Studio in Port Franks when you get a chance.
Thanks also to you, the people who are reading this paper right now. If you have this in your hands, it means that you believe in what I’m doing, and for that I’m grateful. If you’re not a subscriber, I hope you will consider signing up as it is the best way to give me the flexibility to cover events and find stories that no one else is covering. This area is full of interesting stories, and I do my best to report on as many as possible.
It’s a short summer, and we’re already into it. Enjoy the good weather when it comes, and stay safe.

Alternative View
By Lance Crossley

(Part two of a four-part series examining the monetary system.)

One of the unspoken absurdities of our money system is government debt. Under our system, the only way a government can pay for its programs and services is through taxes or borrowing. Since taxes are never enough to meet its budget requirements, government is forced to borrow money. It does this through selling government securities such as treasury bills and bonds. These are basically IOUs with the promise to pay interest on whatever they borrow. The cumulative effect of government borrowing is well known. In Canada, the single largest federal spending item is interest payments on the public debt. In 2006, it amounted to just over 15 cents of every tax dollar. That figure is going up as the Harper government projects $64 billion in deficits by 2011. In the United States, the deficit has ballooned to an astounding $1.7 trillion.
Government debt eventually reaches a point where it cripples a country. You see it in the conditions of the roads, in higher taxes, overcrowded hospitals, and child poverty – everything must be eroded in the name of servicing debt payments. Yet there is no lack of resources, labour, or knowledge to solve these problems; there is, however, a lack of money.
This raises the question: Why is the issuance of credit controlled by private banks and not the government?
In 1921, the great inventor Thomas Edison put it more succinctly:
“If our nation can issue a dollar bond, it can issue a dollar bill. The element that makes the bond good makes the bill good … both are promises to pay; but one promise fattens the usurer, and the other helps the people.”
Abraham Lincoln realized this during the civil war, when bankers would only fund the war at interest rates of 24 to 36 percent. Since this would obviously bankrupt the North, he bypassed the private banking system altogether and authorized the printing of fully legal treasury notes (which is where the expression “Greenbacks” comes from). This money was not backed by reserves or gold, but by “the full faith and credit of the United States”. This interest-free money helped win the war and turn America into an economic power – the steel industry, the railroad system, and even free higher education was established under this innovative money system. Unfortunately, it was short-lived. After Lincoln was assassinated, the bankers resumed their place as the dominant money power.
These days, the distracted public unleashes their anger over their deteriorating quality of life against political parties. They blame the left for raising taxes. They blame the right for cutting back social programs. A divided public suits the bankers fine because it means nobody is questioning why they have a monopoly on the money supply. The fact is, under the weight of enormous public debts, politicians don’t have a choice but to raise taxes or slash programs.
Until we reorder the money system so that it benefits the entire public, and not just a private banking cartel, we’ll be hearing more of these tedious partisan debates for years to come.

Advice from Mom
By Rita Lessard

Finally, summer has arrived and all of the children have completed another school year. Hopefully all the students had a successful year and will enjoy the summer.
The parents, on the other hand, have the unenviable task of keeping all of those kids occupied. Most mothers work, so they have the big job of sending the kids to babysitters or camp or whatever other programs are available. Fortunately, I was able to be a stay at home mom for quite a few years so I could enjoy the summers with the boys.
For a few years, we had a day program called SPARKS run by Steve Wuerth and Lynn Farquhar. These two young people were the finest I’ve ever had the pleasure to meet. Their skills as organizers and entertainers were phenomenal. The kids had a very fun time playing sports and games, doing crafts and going on field trips. The cost was minimal, so nobody felt it was a hardship to participate. I volunteered my services when I could and had a fun time doing so.
My guys were always kept busy; they never said they were bored. Maybe they were smarter than the average bear because anyone who complained of boredom was put to work. Perhaps those people, considering the busy hot summers we used to have, looked forward to going back to school in September. Like that ever happened. That said, sometimes I think kids would prefer to be in school because they never say they’re bored there. Why do we subject them to all of the time that they have to stay home; after all, the poor darlings must be bored out of their minds.
There are so many good things to do in the summer, if and when we get it. I think it’s a little late this year because I haven’t seen too many really hot days yet. Maybe it will last a little longer this year, say past November.
I look forward to summer food, such as fresh fruits and vegetables, and because we can be more active, we don’t tend to gain as much weight. I’ve often heard the expression, “give me a ball park figure,” and thought it meant a rough idea of the cost of something, so I was quite amused when my friend said her husband had quite a ballpark figure, meaning he was quite chubby because he loved hot dogs and beer. Who would have thought?

Car sickness advice
Heading on a summer road trip? Many people, especially children, experience car sickness, and apparently this is caused by a disturbance in your inner ear that throws off your sense of equilibrium. Apparently not moving your head is calming to your inner ear and will make you feel better.
When the boys were young, we traveled quite a bit, but they never had car sickness because as soon as we were out of Exeter, they were asleep. I was, too. Having a portable DVD player is a great way to entertain kids on a long trip, but it’s the last thing you want for car sickness. Playing games that encourage the sufferer to look out the window are far better. My granddaughter Abby gets car sick a lot, so this tip is for you, Glen. For more, check www.momsminivan.com

A joke
The young couple invited their parson for Sunday dinner. While they were preparing the meal, the minister asked their son what they were having. “Goat,” the little boy replied.
“Goat?”, asked the startled man of the cloth. “Are you sure about that?”
“Yep,” said the youngster. I heard Pa say to Ma, “Might as well have the old goat for dinner; today’s as good as any other day.”

Keeping the Peace
By Tom Lessard, C.D.

On a warm, sunny day in November 1957, some of us were told to pack our gear (what little we were allowed to take out of the country) as we were leaving for home. It didn’t take long as I’m sure most of us had been ready to go since day one.
When the big day came, we were driven to El Arish, where there was an airport that had been used by the air force since we moved to the Gaza Strip. On the tarmac awaiting us was a C119 (flying boxcar), in which we were to fly to Naples, Italy. Boarding the plane, the only seats to be found were “bucket seats”, the same as you see parachutists use. Talk about luxury! Our in-flight meal was a boxed lunch consisting of a sandwich, a juice drink and an orange to tide us over.
Once in the air, we could look out at the brownish white desert on one side, contrasted by the beautiful blue Mediterranean Sea. I don’t recall exactly how many hours it took to cross to Italy, but it was about six. We flew between mountains into a valley in which Capodichino Airport is situated. Gorgeous scenery.
Transport awaited us to take us to a hotel used by the U.N. as a rest area for the troops. The accommodations were quite a contrast to what we were used to, coming from a tent in the desert with outdoor plumbing and a washstand in the open with shower stalls. The hotel’s fantastic rooms had real soft beds, carpets, a super dining room with decent meals, and it was situated in a place named Garibaldi Square. You could put the whole town of Exeter in the square and still have room left.
We had four days to explore before we were to continue our journey. I hired a calèche (horse-drawn carriage) for a few hours the first day, sent the driver to purchase a bottle of good Italian wine and to show me around. The square was spared during the Second World War, it seems, because the buildings are old and the architecture is beautiful. After a year in the desert, the noise of the city was almost overpowering.
The second day, I joined a tour bus and traveled to Pompei. This city was destroyed when Mount Vesuvius erupted. It was completely covered and most of the people killed. The parts that had been excavated by the 1950s showed a lot of what life was like in the old days of the Roman Empire. It must have been quite a city.
I spent the rest of my time wandering around Naples. The day of our departure, we were taken badk to the airport for the final leg of our journey to Montreal. Our airplane was called a North Star. Guess what! Bucket seats and box lunches again. When we got airborne we were told that the pressurization was on the fritz and we would be flying below 8,000’. Since we left most of our clothes in Egypt because of posible diseases being carried in them, all I had on was a pair of shoes, no socks, pants and a shirt, no shorts and a beret. The plane was cold as it was November and there was no heat. We stopped in Gibraltar for refueling and headed for Goose Bay, Labrador. While there, we were informed that the weather had closed in Montreal, but it might be clear by the time we got there. Luckily, the weather was fair enough for us to land in a snow squall.
We cleared customs while we shivered and were given passes and train tickets to our hometowns. At the time, my home was Waterloo. When I stepped off the train in Kitchener, it was four below and snowing. I still had no clothing, so comingoff the desert five days before, it was a bit chilly. The best way to warm up, I figured, was to go directly to the Station Hotel and help the bar sales.
A few hours later I hired a cab and walked into the house. You should have seen the look on my parents’ faces.

Alternative View
By Lance Crossley

(Part one of a four-part series examining the monetary system.)

“Until the control of the issue of currency and credit is restored to government and recognized as its most conspicuous and sacred responsibility, all talk of the sovereignty of Parliament and of democracy is idle and futile.”
- William Lyon Mackenzie King, 1935

Running for his fourth term as Prime Minister, Mackenzie King said this amid the rubble of the depression because he saw that money creation was the bitter root of a fundamentally unjust economic system. Today, you cannot find one politician in Canada connecting the economic crisis to our money system.
Most people don’t realize that private banks create virtually all of today’s money supply. For example, when you take out a mortgage of $250,000, the bank is not lending you cash sitting in its vault – it creates it on the spot by typing digits into a computer. (Editor’s note: while the United States requires reserves of 10 per cent for any loan, Canada has no such rule.) The money didn’t exist before you were approved for the loan. When you pay back the principal it becomes what they call “dead money”. It cancels out the loan and it no longer exists in the system. The bank makes its money by charging you interest. Only you have to toil in the real world by producing goods or services in order to pay the interest. Earning tangible wealth takes time. Meanwhile, the accumulating interest can easily double the cost of your initial purchase. It is a sweet deal if you’re a banker: produce nothing of tangible value but get real wealth in return.
But banks only create the principal, not the interest. This creates a chronic shortage in the money supply because businesses and workers are competing to extract interest payments from a money supply that never created it in the first place – the proverbial “rat race”. The money supply is continually being diverted into the coffers of the bankers. Bankruptcies are actually inevitable in such a system; it’s something bankers know full well. That’s why they arrange to seize your property should you default on your payments.
Usury – charging interest on money for profit – is nothing new. Throughout the ages it has been condemned by many of the world’s major religions. The only record of Jesus acting violently was when he threw the moneychangers out of the temple. Jesus was enraged and accused them of turning a house of prayer into a “den of thieves”. The backstory is that people who came to worship had to pay a temple tax, and although there were many different kinds of currency used in everyday commerce, temples would only accept a certain kind of coin called the shekel. The moneychangers soon vacuumed up most of the shekels in circulation and proceeded to lend it at interest to the faithful. Jesus saw that the moneychangers were fixing the fight, and that the system was manufacturing losers.
The moneychangers were the bankers of their time. The question today is: Who is going to challenge the moneychangers of our time?

Advice from Mom
By Rita Lessard

For the first week in June, I had the pleasure of babysitting my granddaughter Katie, age seven, and my grandson Christopher, who will be 17 on June 26. My main charge was the seven year old, but I was responsible to keep an eye on Christopher also.
Before my daughter-in-law left, she told me to keep a look out for activities that could arise with the appearance of Christopher’s girlfriend; it was a big job, but I figured I was up to the challenge.
The first night I met the girlfriend was quite uneventful as they watched TV under the seven-year-old’s supervision. I wasn’t really concerned as my grandson assured me that the girl wasn’t his girlfriend, but rather a friend who happened to be a girl. I think the sweet little girl thought differently, considering the way she clung to him like a coat two sizes too small. Girls are probably more romantic and slightly clingier. Christopher’s a sweet and handsome guy so he will probably have quite a few “friends” before he settles down. He’s only 17 so he’s got a while to go. I hope he doesn’t break too many hearts along the way.

Maybe times have changed. I remember when I was young and available that if a guy held your hand, he was yours. I recall going out with this very handsome guy a couple of times and then I ditched him. My mother almost broke out in a rash when she found out, she said, “For heaven’s sake, Rita, why did you ditch that lovely guy, Bob? He seemed so respectable.”
My reply was, “Of course he is mom, he’s thrifty, doesn’t drink or smoke, has a very steady job, a very lovely wife and three well-behaved children.” Call me crazy. Such a catch.
With another fellow I met, I told him I wasn’t looking to get involved with any one particular guy at the time.
“Lucky for you, Rita,” he said, “I’m not exactly known for being particular.” Another rash for mom. Lucky Tom came along and solved the problem for both of us.
I was talking to a young person the other day who told me she had two boyfriends. I thought that was irregular, but she explained to me that her first boyfriend complained that she wasn’t affectionate enough so she picked up a second one. I guess that’s alright because, as my grandson says, they’re just friends who happen to be girls or boys.
A while ago, I asked a friend why she married her husband despite the fact that they didn’t seem to have too much in common. She agreed, but noted that opposites attract. “I was pregnant,” she said, “and he wasn’t.”

Humour fix
Here’s a joke my friend Frank told me:
A doctor and his wife were having a big argument at breakfast. “You aren’t so good in bed either,” he shouted, and stormed off to work. By mid-morning, he decided he had better make amends and phoned home. After many rings, his wife picked up the phone.
“What took you so long to answer the phone?”
“I was in bed,” she said.
“What were you doing in bed this late?”
To which she answered, “Getting a second opinion.”

Some people say marriage is nature’s way of keeping people from fighting with strangers. Quite true. Good luck to all the people who are getting married this year.

Happy birthday to Christopher (17 on June 26), Will (4 on June 26), Connie (June 30), Olivia (16 on July 1).

Keeping the Peace
By Tom Lessard, C.D.

“Hey, Tom! Have you ever been to Tillsonburg?” No. But I’ve been to Jerusalem.
It happened while I was stationed with the UNEF in the Gaza Strip. Somehow my name came up on a list of possibilities of taking a tour of the Holy Land. (I think someone organized a push to get rid of me for a while, and when push comes to shove, you shove.) I accepted the opportunity.
We boarded an Egyptian aircraft at El Arish, which is an airport in the Mediterranean Sea not far from Rafah (in the Gaza Strip), where we were stationed. Except for black robed Bedouin women, we had seen no other females. Because we were foreign military and the war had recently ended, women were not allowed to show themselves in public while we were around.
Boarding the airplane, it was a pleasant surprise to see attractive, well endowed, smartly dressed young ladies offering us pillows and refreshments. What a shock to the system after months away from life’s delights.
Due to the turmoil between Egypt and Israel, the fact that we were aboard an Egyptian aircraft meant we were not allowed to fly over Israeli territory. Instead, we had to fly south across the Sinai desert, up along the Persian Gulf across part of Jordan and into Jerusalem. We were put up in a hotel between the old and new parts of the city. Yes, it had a bar.
The next day, our tour guide took us to see the mosque called the “Dome of the Rock”, the Holy Sepulchur, the street best known as the Way of the Cross where Jesus carried his cross to Calvary. We also toured Bethlehem and the Wailing Wall.
The next day, we hopped on a bus to see the River Jordan, where John the Baptist baptized Christ. From there, we headed to Jericho and the Dead Sea. After picking up some souvenirs and tasting the local wine, we donned our swimsuits and dove in. It’s true that you can’t sink in the Dead Sea! It’s 1300 feet below sea level and there is no outlet for the water, so it evaporates and leaves the salt. I found out by experiment that I could lie down in the water with a tray beside me holding a newspaper and none of us sinking.
I would heartily recommend that trip. I’m sure a lot of changes have been made over the last 52 years, but most have to be for the better.

You know it’s going to be a bad day when your twin forgets your birthday. Happy birthday to Will, Christopher, Connie and Olivia.
Hurry back to health Diane!

View from the Strip
By Casey Lessard

It’s no secret that the newspaper business is in free fall as businesses tighten their advertising budgets. Local papers, like the Grand Bend Strip, are supposed to be immune to such a tightening, but that’s changing. I have to admit that I didn’t see the change coming.
It’s my worst kept secret that my profit margins are so slim that they’re often non-existent. And that was before the economy tanked. I faced this reality earlier this month when I headed into early May prepared to put a newspaper together. News came that several key clients decided not to return to the fold for the summer, and it became apparent that I would no longer be immune to the changes that are happening in this industry. Faced with taking a fairly large loss, I was forced to cancel the May 13 edition of the Strip. It was a hard decision to make.
Even harder is the decision I’ve had to make since then, and that is the one to end free distribution of the Strip. It’s simply no longer sustainable, especially for an independent publisher like me. So, despite a letter that went out to subscribers outside the free coverage area of Grand Bend, Exeter, Dashwood, and Crediton, the paper will no longer be available free anywhere after the June 17 edition. Starting with the July 8 edition and going forward, the paper will only be available by subscription or paid at local shops.
Going forward, I want to thank you, the reader, for helping the Strip achieve the success it has to date, and hope you’ll continue to support it. I am especially grateful for the 600 loyal subscribers who mailed in their cheques, often with kind notes. It’s important for someone like me to receive such affirmation, especially considering I have done this for two years without pay.
Not that there haven’t been other rewards. Last year, I earned first place in Canada for reporting, second in Ontario for photography, and third for photo page design. This year, mostly for my reportage, I earned two first-place awards in Ontario, a second in Canada and one in Ontario, and four thirds in Canada. It’s among the best turnouts for any paper in Ontario (and possibly Canada) this year. A full list of the honours can be found on page two and at GrandBendStrip.com.
So, if you think what we are doing with this newspaper is worthwhile, please support it financially. First, I hope you will subscribe, and second, support the businesses that have advertised in the past and those that continue to advertise in the Strip. I also hope you’ll consider taking one of my photography classes, and attending my art show and sale at Bliss Studio this summer. Reprints of photos from the newspaper are always available for sale, so if you like a photo, please consider taking one home.
I’ve said this in the past, but I’ll say it again: Thank you. I can’t do this without you.

Excerpts from comments by CCNA and OCNA award judges:

CCNA judge Michelle Stewart (2nd place in Canada for feature series):
Casey Lessard’s series on wheelchair accessibility had touching personal stories of people confined to wheelchairs and their everyday struggles with limited access. Lessard accompanied his subjects in their everyday activities and spent time getting to know this issue through their eyes. This writer wasn’t satisfied to just report on an issue, he took time to live it and do his part to remedy it.

OCNA judge Ted Murphy (1st place Sports & Recreation story for No Lifeguards…)
Lessard did a masterful job on two fronts: he highlighted a dangerous situation (three drownings in three years) in addition to paying tribute to the most recent victim, a 14-year-old girl. It was a clear cut winner.

OCNA judge Kelly Clemmer (1st place Best Editorial for No Lifeguards…)
This editorial… was striking. It was worth the additional effort. It begs the question, how much is a life worth?

Alternative View
By Lance Crossley

Let me share my financial predicament.
My family currently rents an apartment and within the next year or two we would like to put a down payment on a house by using the government’s First Time Home Buyers Plan (HBP). The plan allows you to withdraw from your RRSP, without penalty, to use as a down payment on a home with the promise you will pay back the “loan” over a period of time.
Like many Canadians this past fall, I watched in dismay as the value of my investments nosedived. My middle-of-the-road mutual fund portfolio took a 25-30 percent hit. Fortunately for me, I am nowhere near retirement age, but it did complicate my plan to buy a home, as I would have to cash in my investments at a loss to use the HBP.
Recent stock market gains have “increased” the value of my mutual funds into the negative 15-20 percent territory – a tempting sign to keep my money parked there until the funds fully recover.
But the stock market rally of late is a tease, which is why I have decided to cut my losses before the market takes another tumble. Instead I’ll deposit whatever is left into a safe money market fund.
Why? Because I believe the loss I’ll take will be less now than later. Nine months after the stock market crash of 1929, there was a similar stock market rally that led many – including U.S. President Herbert Hoover – to believe the depression was over. The stock market subsequently crashed even further and didn’t hit the bottom until the summer of 1932.
Things aren’t as bad as the Great Depression, but there is too much evidence that the worst is yet to come. The economy won’t recover unless two things increase: consumer spending and exports.
Consumer spending is the most important, accounting for more than half of the economy. But consumers are tapped out. Household debt in Canada is at an all-time high. Jobs are hemorrhaging at a rate faster than they were during the recessions of the ‘80s and ‘90s. Yes, there was a recent job surge in April, which the media hailed as a sign of recovery, but most of the new jobs were through self-employment. This is the predictable result of the Harper government’s refusal to fix the Employment Insurance system, which less than 45 percent of the unemployed quality for – compared to the more than 80 percent who qualified during the last recession. In the absence of an effective social safety net, workers scramble to put food on the table through what are often lower-income, no-future self-employment activities.
Exports account for a third of the economy, but they won’t generate a recovery until our biggest buyer to the south gets its house in order. Other countries are in a similar situation and will also be curtailing purchases, which again is bad news for our exports.
That is why I am going to save the old-fashioned way for a down payment.

Sign at a pool: The P is already in Pool, so please don’t add yours to it.
Sign on a lawn: What leaves your dog’s behind, please don’t leave behind.

Advice from Mom
By Rita Lessard

Waste! How is it that we have so much waste? I suppose it’s simple enough to figure out. As a wasteful society, we have way too much stuff. I was talking the other day about recycling when I was at Curves, and Anne Armstrong claimed to be the queen of recycling. I told her she should join forces with Tom because he’s the absolute best when it comes to recycling; at least, I can’t keep up with him. I usually put most of the paper and cardboard on the counter and let him get on with his pastime. Perhaps he should give lessons on this very important subject.
Waste is so abundant that people not only waste stuff, but they also waste time, energy and opportunity. At work, people waste time and the boss’ money. Not too long ago, I heard a worker complaining about how dumb their boss was. What they don’t realize is that they’d be out of a job if their dumb boss were any smarter. In this economy, they really should watch their mouths, which are usually working overtime while their minds are on vacation.
On March 4, we were blessed with a new grandson, Jonah, a little brother for Will and a second son for Bill and Christine. Kids are so great and very smart. I recall bragging one day about how smart one of my sons was because he was able to walk at nine months. My neighbour looked at me and said, “You call that intelligent? When my Sara was that old, she let me carry her.” Right! So much for being proud.
Well, it doesn’t matter because all of my sons have been able to stand on their own two feet and it’s especially nice when they walk in the house and say, I love you mom. I wonder if Sara can do that. Meow!
Thoughts for the month: keep smiling, be cheerful and good luck to all the students who are getting ready to finish their school year. Make us proud!

Dandelion solution
I suppose we had better get used to the colour yellow on our lawns. Although green is my favourite colour, I can live with yellow now that the ban on pesticides has been issued. That’s a good reason for the family to pull together and make a summer project of pulling weeds. It’s been suggested that hot water and vinegar will get rid of dandelions. It’s up to you!
Have fun and enjoy the summer.

Keeping the Peace
By Tom Lessard

The time came to get out of the desert, so a two-week leave in Beirut, Lebanon was set up for us.
We trucked to Gaza City to catch a Greek yacht for our journey. I seem to recall that there were 20 of us on the boat. We set out to sea in the Mediterranean at about 10 a.m. on a bright sunny day. Around noon, we were served lunch. Grouper floated in olive oil and a huge garden salad with a beer to wash it all down. The meal didn’t sit too well with me, so I went to the head. It consisted of a stall with a hole in the floor and two railings to hang onto. The rolling motion of the boat made it quite a humourous event.
By 3 p.m., we were pulling into Beirut harbour, and after passing through customs we spotted a store that sold liquor. A bottle of C.C. could be had for $1.50, so two buddies and I purchased a case, which should have lasted the duration of our stay.
A bus took us through Beirut up the mountains (5000’) to a resort hotel called the Beit Mery. It was a wonderful restful accommodation for us. The air that high up was cool compared to the city.
We stored our gear in our rooms, got cleaned up and then went to the front desk, where we left most of our money in a safe. Lebanon was a very inexpensive country coompared to a lot of the places I had visited. Being Canadians with the United Nations, we were treated very well. Some of the people in Beirut didn’t think much of the American military (following the 1958 Lebanon crisis).
Beirut at the time was the financial capital of the Middle East, and was a beautiful city. Fantastic clubs and restaurants abounded. We tried to go to all of them but unfortunately there were too man for the short time we were alloted.
One day, I walked on my own into a market full of shops and people. Big mistake, going alone. I was swarmed by about 20 kids. Some kept me busy while others picked my pockets. The cops had to rescue me. I was given a dressing down and turned over to the United Nations after spending more than three hours in protective custody.
Another time, we were sitting in a bar having a drink and a look around, when out of nowhere appears a gang of Brazilian soldiers. As they walked by our table, one of them reached out and grabbed my buddy’s beret. We took off after them and ended up on the street in a brawl. Along came the cops again. Another visit to the local lock-up and another recovery by the U.N. We never did get the beret back.
At the end of our holiday, we were getting ready to leave and we were told to hurry up as there was trouble at the airport; it seems the Americans were involved in some kind of skirmish. We hurried and left behind a beautiful country with some wonderful memories, all courtesy the Canadian people and the United Nations.
Happy belated birthday to Brittany & Joan!

View from the Strip
By Casey Lessard

If you haven’t seen the amazing internet sensation, Susan Boyle, get yourself to YouTube right now and search for her performance on Britain’s Got Talent. Go ahead. I’ll still be here when you get back.
Anjhela and I were among the very first people outside of Britain to see the video (Anjhela remembers there were only 30 views when we watched it last Saturday night, and as the Strip goes to press, there are now a million times that amount). The Scottish woman’s performance of “I Dreamed A Dream” from Les Miserables is stunning, even after listening to it 100 times (seriously). It’s no surprise that Ms. Boyle, a single 47-year old woman from southern Scotland, is a global phenomenon.
What should be surprising, but depressingly is not, is how much attention has been paid to her appearance and the fact that she said she has “never been kissed”, which was a self-deprecating comment taken seriously by every media outlet. One went so far as to interview Drew Barrymore, the star of the film, Never Been Kissed, who Boyle should kiss first, like either woman cares about the answer.
Susan Boyle was judged by her looks – called frumpy, dowdy, ugly, plain, simple, and all variety of negative terms by other media – from the moment she took the stage with her freshly curled hair and a gown she bought for her nephew’s wedding. But to her, this is how she wanted to appear in front of the judges, her nation, and now the world. She may not qualify as the top choice for next year’s Sports Illustrated swimsuit edition, but neither would 99.99999 per cent of us. Seriously, who are we to judge her looks?
Besides, does that matter? She didn’t go on Britain’s Got Talent to be a model; she went there to sing, and her talent has sent shockwaves through the world wide web. She is an amazing singer, and she has a joyful sense of humour. She is debunking perceptions of how celebrities and regular people should appear in public (she’s disarmingly normal in interviews), and turning the global (especially North American) standard of beauty on its head. She’s not actually that unattractive (physically or especially intrinsically), and would be as welcome at a dinner party as any celebrity I’ve ever met.
More disturbingly is the answer to the following question: would Boyle’s appearance be so heavily criticized had she been a man? Perhaps one wearing a suit from a supermarket with worse teeth? If you look back, the winner of the inaugural Britain’s Got Talent, Paul Potts, fared much better when he meekly presented himself in front of the judges. The fact that he was respected before and after he opened his mouth (although his teeth were heavily debated and eventually fixed) reflects our bias against women who aren’t visually perfect compared to men who present themselves similarly.
The judges and audience never expected an average looking single woman in her late-40s to have any talent or value. It’s shameful, and not only do we need to realize that we shouldn’t judge a book by its cover (as has been said far too many times this week), but we should also consider that the cover is fine just the way it is.
Love you, Susan.

Alternative View
By Lance Crossley

Shakespeare once wisely wrote: “Neither a borrower not a lender be”.
But in 2009, it’s clear that it is better to be a lender. If there is one thing the global economic crisis has shown, it is that the world is run by creditors. The reality is so obscene that it is a wonder why incidents that happened at the G20 summit in London, where protesters stormed the banks, are not happening more often. Instead of paying for their crimes – promoting predatory loans and exotic securities that fueled the housing bubble and subsequent economic collapse – banks are cashing in on the current crisis on the backs of taxpayers.
In the United States, the government recently announced a so-called “public-private” partnership to rid the banks of the toxic assets they created. Under this plan, the government will lend investors 92 per cent of the money to buy these worthless pieces of paper. Investors only have to put up eight per cent of the costs. If the assets end up losing money (which they probably will), the 92 per cent “loan” is guaranteed by the taxpayer. If they miraculously gain money, the public gets only 50 per cent of the gains. The financial elite have everything to gain and nothing to lose: banks rid themselves of toxic assets and way above market price, investors risk nothing, and the tab is picked up by your average hard-working citizen.
In Canada, the Harper government bailed-out our banks to the tune of $75 billion in the fall, supposedly to get the banks lending again. That much money could have fixed healthcare, poverty, and raised the standard of living for First Nations in one fell swoop. The government framed it as a “market transaction”, not a bailout, so it was barely covered by the press. If our banks are the healthiest in the world, as Harper is so fond of saying, why do our banks require a cash injection that, on a per capita basis, is equal to the $700 billion dollar bailout in the U.S. that caused so much controversy? Another steal for the banks.
The same power dynamics are taking place on the world stage. Take Iceland, for example, which is on the verge of becoming a third-world country thanks to the current crisis. International creditors knowingly loaded Iceland with debts they knew could never be repaid. The idea is to keep collecting on the interest until the country is tapped and then forced – by institutions like the IMF and World Bank – to start stripping its public assets. Sell off the country bit by bit to the private sector and create a whole new slew of borrowers for the banks. The problem is that this is leaving the country in ruin. This is familiar story to the developing world, but a new one for a country like Iceland.
Today, we live in a world where the only wealth being generated is through the extraction of debt.
It’s a world where only a privileged few are benefiting and an awful lot are suffering.

Advice from Mom
By Rita Lessard

Thanks to my sister Joan, I was the happy recipient of a very leisurely holiday in Punta Cana for 10 days.
I don’t know about Joan, but for me, it was a very pleasant vacation and a much needed rest with plenty of sunshine – a respite from the frigid weather that you unfortunate souls had to endure the last part of March and the first week of April. I was quite surprised to see snow when I came back, but now as I look out it is sunny and warm. Hopefully we’ve seen the last of the white stuff.
The secret to a successful trip is preparation before you leave. For instance, the most important thing is getting your passport. When I renew my passport in two years, I will be on my fourth application. Still, It doesn’t matter how many times you apply: the government will still put you through the same crap. Even though these jokers know that my mother’s maiden name will never change, or that my birth month, day and year will never change, they still insist I give them the same information every time I deal with them. I know they know who I am: over the years, I’ve had a social insurance card, birth certificate, and filled out income tax forms, etc. You can see why I’m surprised I have to go through so much to convince these people who I am.
I suppose it’s quite a cash grab, though; when I first applied forty years ago, the passport cost me $5. Now they’ve raised the stakes, so be sure you save some extra vacation money for the passport.
In the past, you could smile when you got your passport picture taken, but not today. No smiling! If you don’t look like a criminal, you can’t leave the country! I supposed they figure you’re ticked off after all the bull they’ve put you through.

Speaking of which, this vacation was my first time encountering the dreaded Montezuma’s Revenge, or as some people call it, the tiki trots; in plain English, diarrhea. For the first week or so, it was a stop and go situation. In case the reading public is ever plagued with this condition, here are some helpful hints:
- Drink plenty of fluids.
- Eat foods like mashed carrots, chicken broth, crackers, dry toast, bananas, Jell-O, apple sauce.
- Stay away from dairy, except yogurt.
- Also avoid explosives like beans, cabbage and Brussels sprouts.
- Try to maintain a bland diet until your condition passes (maybe that’s a bad way to say it. Correction: until you’re relieved of the ring around the bowl).
If you are lucky enough to be able to travel outside Canada and unlucky enough to encounter the Katmandu Quick Stop, take comfort in something like Imodium, or as some people will say, “put a plug in it.”

Not to worry, though; I’m back in good stead, and just in time to congratulate Casey for winning his newspaper awards. You’re the best, signed your prejudiced mother.

Keeping the Peace
By Tom Lessard

With Rita away in the sunny Dominican Republic, I was reminded of my trip to the Middle East when I was 19. There I was in January 1957, debarking from an aircraft carrier in Port Said, Egypt and embarking on a new experience. We boarded trucks to travel down the Suez Canal during the crisis that had started months earlier. We were headed to Ismailia and the junction of the Sweet Water Canal, which runs to Cairo and the Nile River.
About 30 miles along the Sweet Water is the village of Abu Sueir, which has an air force base. This is where we spent the first couple months of our tour. What was left of the Egyptian army had a unit station on the air base, and we camped on the other side of a fenced-in area.
One night when I was on fire picket, I happened to come to a gate along the fence line that separated our camp from that of the Egyptian air base. As I turned the corner to check the other side, I startled an Egyptian sentry, who lowered his rifle – with bayonet fixed – and walked right into me, stabbing me in the stomach. Luckily, I was wearing my great coat because it stopped most of the thrust and I suffered only a slight wound. I was able to continue my patrol, and when I passed my tent, I stopped for a few minutes to clean the wound and put a bandage on it before continuing the duty. The potential for an international incident meant there was no way I was about to report that goof-up.
This mission was where we were introduced to Stella. The beer, that is, in quart bottles. They came in wooden cases like the old Coca-Cola ones, and sat outside in the heat with no coolers to chill them. The beer was skunky, but because it was all we could get, we had to put up with it. It took about a week or so to get accustomed to it, but by then it started to taste pretty good.
Our opportunity at playing tourist saw us take a bus tour to Cairo. Driving by bus along the canal and seeing the way people lived was like stepping back in time to the days of the Pharaohs. The Egyptians used the canal to wash their clothes, bathe, and brush their teeth using their fingers. We passed a prison with the chain gangs working outside. We also saw 15 men pulling a dhow (a single-masted sailboat) up the river. The dhows are loaded off freighters in the Suez Canal at Ismailia. These men walked along the bank pulling the dhow to Cairo – against the current.
When we reached Cairo, as we stepped off the bus we were met by a woman trying to sell us her baby for about $0.50; she said should couldn’t afford to feed the baby and herself. We sure didn’t need a baby, so we all chipped in and gave her some money to buy what she needed and went on our way.
Because of the war, Cairo was very quiet. Very few people or vehicles were about, nor were boats traveling down the river.
As all tourists do, we went for a camel ride around the pyramids of Giza and the Sphinx, and watched a man run up and down the pyramid. These monuments are amazing pieces of construction. The blocks are so immense, it makes you wonder how people could move them and place them into position. I realize it took years and incredible manpower, but it’s still hard to fathom.
Our next tour was to Mount Sinai. We traveled south on the Sinai desert by Jeep, stopping at small oases to rest and refresh ourselves. There is a lot of history at Mount Sinai, where Moses was said to have received the Ten Commandments. It is a very hot and dry area in the desert, and leaves me pondering how the Jews survived all their years wandering here. We were met by monks who gave us a choice of going up the side of the mountain by basket or making the long climb to the monastery itself.Being in good physical condition, most of us chose to climb while a few of the older (and obese) men rode the basket. This mode of transportation involves a basket secured by a long rope attached to a pulley situated at an opening in the monastery wall and operated by monks inside. It was pulled up and brought inside so that intruders couldn’t use it when raiding.

Children in Crediton recently celebrated another Christian tradition, with the annual Easter egg hunt held Saturday. Seven hundred eggs were strewn across the ball diamond and park areas. Some of the eggs had papers with numbers on them inside. If you found one of these, each represented a correspondingly numbered prize. Every child received a hot dog and other treats, and super weather meant a great turnout.

View from the Strip
By Casey Lessard

You may have seen – or not seen but noticed – that A-Channel London no longer has a morning show. The people who lost their jobs there are among many cut from the television station, including some who will be let go in August. Also gone are two bureau stations in Wingham and Windsor. It’s a tough time for television journalists in southwestern Ontario, that’s for sure.
I used to be one of those people, working at CKCO in Kitchener until 2005. And I went to school, worked with, or worked beside several of the people who lost their jobs this week at A-Channel. Anjhela and Gloria played their music on the morning show a couple of years ago, and my dad was interviewed several times by Wingham’s Scott Miller when the sewer debate was happening in Crediton. I saw many of these journalists after Bill and Helene Regier were murdered, and again at the Imeson trial. I’m sure you’d recognize some of their faces.
Television is facing tough times as advertising dollars dry up in the current economic climate. But let’s be honest; does local television serve a purpose? If the advertising dollars aren’t there, isn’t it just a big waste of money on a very large make-work project? Who needs local TV when we have the internet?
You can do pretty much everything you need on the net, including watching your favourite shows, talking to friends, making friends, making enemies, whatever.
More importantly, you can even read the news on-line. Who needs TV news? Heck, you don’t even need to buy a newspaper – you can get that on-line, too. And it’s free!
In fact, that’s true for journalists, too. We don’t need to be in Wingham, Dashwood, or even Varna to know what’s happening there. It’s all on the internet, and a TV assignment editor can simply send someone from London to do the story when it’s needed. Even better, forget London and centralize in Toronto. It’s not that far to drive.
Besides, do you really care what happens in your own community, on your street, to your neighbours? That information is overrated, and someone has to be blogging about it on the internet, right? Maybe even someone who actually lives in this area.
Personally, I don’t own a TV, but you probably do. Let’s look at the bigger picture. The loss of local programming at A-Channel is not just about the fact of the loss. It raises a larger question: do we really need local news?
A few hundred people in this community (meaning you, the Grand Bend Strip subscriber) think it’s important to read the local news in this newspaper, and the other paper has a few readers, too. But how long will that last before the internet takes over and you’re the last to know when someone from your community is named a Canadian champion, or that your child did something great? When local news outlets leave, start the clock.
The most important part of this equation is the one the TV networks and the internet news providers can’t provide. Every news story starts as a local news story. Then it goes regional, then provincial, national and international. If there’s no local news provider, there’s no news. That’s the truth.
You know the value of local news – you even pay me to do it. Thank you. Now spread the word. Maybe we can keep some of those people at A-Channel producing news that matters to you.
If you think local TV news is important write your support for A-Channel news to the CRTC, CTV Globemedia, and your MP.

To the Editor:
A huge thank you to those who supported the troop morale spaghetti dinner. Over $2,000 was raised, including $400 from people who didn’t even attend the dinner. A special thanks to the volunteers who produced the meal and refreshments, and to the Grand Bend Sobey’s and No Frills stores for donating product.
Harry C. Young
Greenway

To the Editor:
A big thank you to all who helped at the troop morale spaghetti dinner. Kitchen: Gayle McGregor; Brad Hawkins; Rick; and Barry Hill. Servers: Al Noxell; Joan McCullough; Jeanette Wales.
Special thanks to Mike Tieman for keeping everything full and Gord Glazier for running to the store. Many thanks to those who donated home-made sauce: Linda Hill; Fred and Helen Teeple; Mary and Jim Blair; Lois Gilbert; Marilyn Dick; Craig Coltman; and Sheila.
Our local businesses were very generous: Mike and Terri Rahn of No Frills; and Bob Uhrig of Sobey’s. It was a great success and we loved the support. Thanks to all.
Sheila Tiedeman
Grand Bend Legion Branch 498

Alternative View
By Lance Crossley

Prime Minister Stephen Harper drew heavy criticism earlier this month when he told CNN that international forces in Afghanistan were never going to defeat the insurgency. His comments provoked a tongue-lashing by everybody from opposing political parties to the renowned Washington-based magazine Foreign Affairs.
What’s really shocking about Harper’s comments is not their legitimacy; many reputable sources close to the issue have said the same thing for a long time now. The real scandal is what his comments and the ensuing reaction to it reveal about the pathetic scope of debate on the Afghanistan issue.
Those who criticize Harper do so because they believe the war can be won, or that it is an insult to soldiers to say otherwise.
What links Harper and his critics is that they all justify the war based on whether it is winnable or not. If we can win, we should stay. If we are going to lose, we should go. (A few years ago Harper was happy to boast to the world that Canadians “don’t cut and run”.)
There’s been an appalling lack of critical thought in this country about this war ever since the former Liberal government signed up for George Bush’s “war on terror”. Iraq has had plenty of critics, but Afghanistan has been strangely immune to criticism. Nowhere can I find a convincing answer to a very simple question: Why are we there?
Are we there because of September 11? The Taliban were not involved in the planning of 9/11. Before the invasion, the United States propped up the Taliban regime with millions of dollars until American oil interests were unable to build a lucrative pipeline through the country. That is why government documents show the U.S. was planning to overthrow the Taliban well before the terrorist attacks. Sound like Iraq? This is a more rational explanation than the idea of squandering billions of dollars just to hunt down one man.
Are we there to instil freedom and democracy? In October 2001, the U.S. and its allies ignored the pleas of 1,000 non-Taliban Afghan leaders to stop the bombing of their country. The leaders begged the West to overthrow the Taliban regime through other means – a goal they believed was possible without killing. Why were these proposed alternatives never considered?
Are we there to counter Islamic fundamentalism? We now have a country run by drug warlords with no viable economy, horrendous rates of illiteracy, and widespread starvation. Nothing has improved. Things are worse. Worse yet, the Taliban has been given a new lease on life thanks to the hatred the war has incited among Afghans.
To date, more than 100 Canadian soldiers have died. With each death, this country turns into hero-worship mode, turning our soldiers into martyrs for dying for such a ‘noble cause’. But their deaths do not make them heroes; rather, they become tragic figures. Their deaths are tragic because we cannot give a good reason why they had to die.

Advice from Mom
By Rita Lessard

What a glorious sunny day! This past Friday, March 6, the warm sun was shining and the promise of nice weather appeared to be our reward for enduring such a bitterly cold three months of icy temperatures. But, alas, it was short lived; I went to start my car early Saturday morning and it was back to scraping the ice off. Then came the rain, but I’m not one to despair as my mind is on my plans to go to Punta Cana on March 23. Thanks to the generosity of my sister Joan, I’m able to go somewhere that will thaw me out.
I’ve been packed for at least three weeks, so I guess you could say I’m eager to go. I probably won’t get much of a tan, but with any luck my freckles and age spots will make it look like I belong. Joan will be quite tanned as she’s been around. Let me rephrase that: she’s a seasoned traveler and she loves the sun.
Regardless, if I get a tan or not I’m looking forward to going. I’ve packed the necessary supplies like sunscreen, after-sun lotion, insect repellent, and of course, Imodium and extra underwear – just in case the bottom falls out. You can never be too careful, you know!
Everyone tells me I deserve a rest, so I’m looking forward to a nice holiday with my best friend and sister. Perhaps I can do something about the washed out look that seems to have attacked my person. One more reason to take a sunny holiday.
Since I’ll be flying, I’m going to leave you with a final note of a joke heard from my friend Frank. At an airline ticket counter, a small boy with his mother told the agent he was two years old. The man looked at him suspiciously and asked, “Do you know what happens to little boys who lie?” “Yes. They get to fly for half price.”
Happy birthday to my granddaughter Abby, who will turn twelve March 12, and to my daughter-in-law Val who will be… older on March 27. All the best, girls!

Editor’s Note: Happy birthday, mom! Enjoy your vacation – you deserve a break!

Keeping the Peace
By Tom Lessard, C.D.

Frankenmuth, Michigan is a beautiful little town on I-75 between Saginaw and Bay City. The big attraction is a Santa’s Village, but it is also known for having a variety of excellent restaurants and parks. It also has its very own brewery, from which you can purchase buckets of beer of various sizes at a convenient window without even entering the building. I know, because this was my first stop.
How did we get there? Well, as usual, we purchased tickets from the Albatross and of course that was the embarking area. Those days, the bar was closed on Sundays, but it amazed me how much liquid flowed. When bar crowds don’t have to drive to their destination, they naturally enjoy their spirits.
The bus arrived and off we went. This trip, we had no problems at the Sarnia-Port Huron border. We stopped at a restaurant shortly after crossing the border and had a snack. From there to Frankenmuth it’s about two hours, a pleasant bus ride of rolling countryside and small towns and villages. The only different between that part of Michigan and our part of Ontario is the license plates.
When we arrived at our destination, the heat got to me and I took a little nap under a tree while the rest of the gang spread out. I awoke after a short time to find a parade passing a block away. My wife disappeared somewhere leaving me without funds. Wandering around, I met my buddy Gig and we hooked up together to watch the parade. When it was over while searching for the rest of the busload, we stopped at the brewery where Gig treated for a couple of buckets. After a time we carried on downtown. We were passing a hotel when, all of a sudden, there was a commotion and the next thing we knew the troopers were escorting old Lawrence out of the establishment. We approached them and asked what the trouble was. It seems that Lawrence was giving the employees a hard time and creating a disturbance. We told them that he was with us that we would look after him. They were kind enough to agree after giving us a warning. Off we went with Lawrence between us until we came to a pretty little shaded park where we propped him against a tree. By this time we were dry again. Gig spotted a store a short ways away and took off. He came back with a brown paper bag containing two bottles of wine. It reminded me of our days in Cyprus on the second tour. Anyway, we didn’t take long disposing of the grapes, ensuring that Lawrence had only a couple of sips each round.
The sun was heading west by this time, so we headed back to the rendezvous with the bus. My wife and her friends were there to greet us. Off we went home. I never did get to see Santa.
Congratulations Bill and Christine, who welcomed Johan Robert March 4, a little brother for Will. Happy Birthday to Rita, April 5!

View from the Strip
By Casey Lessard

I wish I could be more thorough with my evaluation of this month’s release of the Lifesaving Society’s aquatic safety audit of Grand Bend beach. Unfortunately, I was late receiving a copy and had only today (the day I am sending the paper to the printer) to digest the 70-page document. (Staff responses to recommendations are included in the public report, and official comments will come in a future report.)
The Lifesaving Society saw no “priority concerns” that would require immediate attention, but made 30 primary recommendations and 19 secondary recommendations. At the time of the audits (May 30 and June 27, 2008), the beach was operating within the range of safe practice, as the Society calls it. It received that mark of approval because none of the areas covered by the primary recommendations threatened public safety. One month after the audits were performed, Ryan Albrecht of Stratford drowned at the beach.
While the report calls for improvements to record keeping, signage, staffing, and equipment, extended lifeguard hours were considered a secondary – or low-priority – recommendation. To the extended lifeguard hours concern, staff suggested such an extension in working hours to 6:30 (plus a half-hour to tear down) would be “overkill” for weekday patrols. It should be noted that Ryan Albrecht drowned minutes after lifeguards went off-duty at 5 p.m. on a Wednesday. Such an extension would not have helped Jule Kovar, who drowned in 2007, and went under the waves at 7:30 p.m.
One of the recommendations that is sure to spark debate is the one to close off the pier to pedestrian traffic. This may be a good idea, but a suggestion to ban swimming within 50 metres of the pier is more critical. Jule Kovar may be alive today if this ban were in place.
I am not in a position to make conclusions about the report or the municipality’s response to it today. I will be spending more time analyzing it as the summer approaches, and will find out which of the recommendations will come to fruition this year. I hope to keep the municipality to its word so that your safety and the safety of our visitors remains top priority. To me, that’s the most important part of this year’s beach enhancement.

Loss of manufacturing sector more than just numbers

Alternative View
By Lance Crossley

The latest job figures are not good. According to Statistics Canada, the country lost 129,000 jobs in January, which is worse than any monthly decline in the previous two recessions. Almost all the positions were full-time. Ontario was hit especially hard due to losses in the manufacturing sector, where 36,000 manufacturing positions evaporated into thin air. Unemployment rates are shooting up, with blue collar towns like Windsor already showing double digit unemployment figures.
Behind the numbers are a lot of devastated families. Some will be further distressed when they find out they don’t qualify for the Employment Insurance they have paid into all these years. But there is a broader and even more worrying trend, and that is the decline of our economic might.
Historically, Canada had to work hard to become more than just a natural resource based economy. It took sound public policy planning to create a diversified economy that wasn’t solely dependent on unprocessed resources. That is why by the mid-1990s Canada had become a heavyweight in the global manufacturing market. This helped make the country self-sufficient.
In the words of Jim Stanford, economist for the Canadian Auto Workers union, “For the first time in our history, we exported as much as we imported, and then some. For a country which traditionally relied on the export of natural resources to pay for imports of value-added merchandise, this was a tremendous achievement.”
But that economic high point was short lived. Since then our production exports have gone way down, and our reliance on resource exports – like Alberta oil – has risen dramatically. The problem with resource exports is that they are finite. A diversified, “value-added” economy with a strong manufacturing sector is more sustainable and better for our long-term economic security. For those who coldly suggest that laid-off manufacturing workers in Ontario can simply pack up and go work in the Alberta oils sand, think again. Forget about the complications of uprooting ones entire family to move out west, or the fact that oil sands projects are also being hit by the global recession. According to Stanford, there has only been one new job created in the mining and energy sector for every 4.5 jobs lost in the manufacturing sector between 2002-2008. And that was when the oil sands were booming.
I hate to say it, but the manufacturing sector in this province is done. It’s been dying for years. We need to build a new economy to replace the one we are losing. Even if we succeed in reinventing ourselves, it is going to take a long, long time to reap the benefits. In the meantime, better hold on tight.

Keeping the Peace
By Tom Lessard

It all started on my birthday this October. My boys bought three tickets to see Montreal (my favourite) play Buffalo in Buffalo. Hearing this, another son and my grandson wanted to go, too, so they bought two more tickets. Then a friend of Billy’s thought it would be a good plan if he could go with us.
I left Crediton in the morning and left my car at my eldest son Tom’s house in London. His seven-year-old daughter, plays hockey on a Devilettes novice house league team that had a tournament game at 10:15 that morning at the Western Fair sports complex. We had plenty of time, so we stayed and watched them play. It was her turn to play goal; they won 3-1. Great game!
As soon as it was over, Tom and I left for Burlington, where we were to meet the rest of the gang. Clipping down Highway 403 at 120 km/h, we didn’t see two cruisers sitting on the median. As we passed them, I noticed the lights start flashing. I said to Tommy, “Uh oh! Here goes a couple hundred and a some points.” But, as it turned out, they weren’t after us.
About half an hour later, Tommy’s phone rang. It was Billy calling to see where we were and to tell us of a change in meeting places. Tommy wasn’t looking in his mirrors and wouldn’t you know it, a cruiser passed us. Thankfully, considering the new cell phone driving law, he wasn’t looking our way.
On we went to our new rendezvous point, Mississauga. We picked up four in our group and headed off to Niagara Falls and the Wolfs Head Lodge, where Bill’s friend, our last rider, was staying. GPS is a wonderful invention; it directed us right to the door.
After loading up, we headed to Fort Erie and the bridge. The crossing is a very busy place. We had to show a passport or two pieces of identification (including one with a photo). The guard checked everybody out and when he came to me, he said that I wouldn’t be able to cross.
We asked why and he said it was because of my attire. I was wearing a Habs shirt, Habs helmet/hat, Habs coat, and Habs scarf. One of my sons piped up and said, “At least he’s not wearing a Leafs uniform.” After that, he let us go and told us to have a good time.
We arrived in Buffalo early and decided to go for supper at the Pearl Street Grill and Brewery, a restored warehouse in the city’s historic district. When we got to the entrance, we were told that there was at least an hour wait on the main floor, but if we wished to go up to the third floor, there would be lots of room. The first floor was for dining with entertainment; the second floor was an arcade with pool tables, dart boards, shuffle board, and gaming machines. The third floor had a bar, all you can eat buffet with salads, wings, roast beef, pasta, gravies, sauces and rolls. The tables were round and candlelit. As more people arrived, walls were opened to show more tables and chairs.
After dinner, because it was a long walk to the arena, the boys pushed me in a wheelchair. Arriving at the arena, we were fronted by red, white and blue shirts, coats and hats. I thought we were at the Montreal Forum. The mass of Montreal fans reflects the fact that the Hamilton Bulldogs are a farm team, and use the same Habs uniform. The HSBC staff and volunteers were excellent; we were treated with respect and assistance that would be hard to beat.
There was plenty of hollering, singing, booing and cold beer, and even though the Habs outshot and outplayed the Sabres, we went down to defeat. Wait until next time!
Happy anniversary Rita and Happy Birthday Glenn.

Romance can be humourous, but it can also be addictive, so watch out!

Advice from Mom
By Rita Lessard

Happy Valentine’s Day! Another occasion to be nice to our loved ones and friends.
Around six years ago, when I was working days at Tim Horton’s, I had an elderly customer who came in for coffee nearly every day. Quite a nice old guy, a bit of a romantic, and a joker to boot. A week before Valentine’s Day, the old fellow asked me if I would be offended if he brought a little Valentine’s gift for me and the girls that worked on our shift. I was a little surprised, but when he said that he had been working on his project for some time, I agreed that it would be fine.
The next week, he came in with his gifts, which were little knitted red hearts that we could pin to our uniforms. We were so happy to wear the little hearts, and I think we made the elderly gentleman feel quite happy.
As I said, he was quite a joker, which explains why I was reluctant when he offered the gift. I’ll give you an example. One day he told me that when he was younger, he complained to a friend that he didn’t know what to buy his wife for Valentine’s Day. “She already has everything you could think of, and anyway, she works so she can buy herself whatever she likes.”
“Here’s an idea,” said his friend. “Make up your own gift certificate that says, ‘Thirty minutes of great loving any way you want it.’ I guarantee she’ll be enchanted.”
The next day, the friend asked, “Well, did you take my suggestion?”
“Yes,” the fellow replied.
“Did she like it?”
“Oh, yes,” he said. “She jumped up, kissed me on the forehead and ran out the door, yelling, ‘See you in 30 minutes!’”
Because he was a romantic and a joker, I don’t really know if he was telling the truth. If you can imagine, I still have my little red heart and I’ll be wearing it again this Valentine’s.

Always a romantic
You’re never too old to fall in love. Take my mother, for instance. It seemed like she was always in love. My dad passed away when she was 47 years old, which was quite young to be a widow. After a decent grieving time of three years, my mother started dating and got married for the second time when she was 58 years old. Alas, she became a widow again when she was 70.
It took her nine years before her pursuit of love and happiness were fulfilled. At 79 years old – with rumours swirling that she was pregnant – she decided to go up the aisle again. I wasn’t too sure if this marriage was going to last, though. One day I was visiting mom and she was a little bit depressed, so I asked her what was wrong. “Oh, I don’t know,” she said. “Normally I’m happy, as you know, but last night I had to slap Gord in the face three times.”
“You’re kidding,” I replied. “At his age, the old fool? Was he trying to get fresh with you or beat you?”
“Oh no,” she said,” I slapped him because I thought he was dead.”
Sure enough, six months later, mother was alone again. This time, however, she divorced the man. I guess she wasn’t pregnant after all. Such a waste.
My mother passed away in her 89th year and an hour before she died she was flirting with her doctor. Now that’s a romantic!

Happy Valentine’s Day and Happy Birthday to Glen (Feb. 19) and my brother Robert Peter (Feb 24).

View from the Strip
By Casey Lessard

It’s going to be an exciting month, even though it’s already half over. January will see the changing of the guard in Washington, and possibly in Ottawa, too. While the former is much more of a guarantee than the latter, it’ll certainly be interesting to watch history unfold in both cities.
Some of my students are heading to Washington for Barack Obama’s presidential inauguration, and I have to admit that I’m jealous. While it’s unlikely they’ll get to see anything among the crowd, being present for an historic moment like that is unforgettable. I was shocked when none of them wanted to go to Chicago for election night; when I was a journalism student, everyone wanted to go to protests and anything else of such interest just to be there and be part of history. Something as big as Obama’s win will rarely be repeated in our lifetime.
Then there’s Ottawa, where things have certainly changed since our last issue. With Michael Ignatieff in charge of the Liberals, the party now has more support than the Conservatives, according to a Nanos poll conducted last week. Will Stephen Harper have the courage to bring his own government down with more maneuvering, or will he try to hold on to power and resist forcing Ignatieff’s hand? Interesting times indeed.
Here at home, the annual winter carnival is coming next month, and I hope to see you out at the community events. It’s been a tough, cold winter and we need something to loosen up our backs from shoveling.

I realize this is not the place to advertise, but I’ve been keeping busy working on a new project (above and beyond the paper and school). I’d love for you to visit my new blog, casey365.com if you have a chance. Comments are appreciated! See you soon.

Alternative View
By Lance Crossley

It can get confusing listening to the various media pundits and experts talk about what’s wrong with the economy. You hear a lot of talk about “subprime loans”, the “credit crunch”, and “market confidence”. All this is true, but for me, there is no clearer illustration of what ails the economy than this startling fact: On the morning of January 2, at precisely 9:04 a.m., the country’s highest paid 100 CEOs had already earned what the average Canadian earns in an entire year.
That means that before these CEOs had barely recovered from their New Year’s hangover, they had “earned” $40,237. This shocking fact was recently published by the Canadian Centre for Policy Alternatives, which analyzed the earnings of Canada’s best-paid CEOs for 2007. The study’s author, Hugh MacKenzie, puts it like this:
“If you made what most would consider a substantial salary – say, the $100,000 a year that gets you on the so-called ‘sunshine list’ in some provinces – the highest paid 100 CEOs would have pocketed your annual earning by the end of lunch hour on January 5.”
This perverse gap between the rich and poor is one reason it is going to be very difficult to get out of this deepening recession. In the last five years, hundreds of thousands of well-paying manufacturing jobs have evaporated into thin air. Workers are left to scrounge for low-paying jobs, which doesn’t help in a country where not a single province has a minimum wage even close to the poverty line. In fact, Canada has the second highest percentage of low-paid workers in the developed world. (Only the United States is worse).
Meanwhile, household debt in Canada is at a record high; as the recession worsens, a lot of Canadians simply won’t be able to keep up. Those relying on their home equity to bail them out of debt are in trouble too, as the Bank of Canada says that “a severe economic downturn could result in a substantial increase in default rates on household debt.” In other words, brace yourself for a housing crisis of our own.
In the last 30 years corporate profits have soared while workers’ wages in real dollars have either stagnated or declined. According to Canadian Business magazine, the country’s 46 billionaires are worth more than the total assets of the bottom 14 million Canadians. This ever-widening gap is finally catching up to the greedy few at the top. Why? Because no one has any money to buy the things they’re selling.
In 1914, Henry Ford announced he would pay his employees five dollars a day for their work. This was unheard of at the time, as most industrial workers were only making 11 dollars a week. He did so because he wanted his workers to be able to buy his cars. He realized that if citizens don’t get a fair share of the pie, then the economy cannot grow because capitalism relies on people buying things.
Ford’s philosophy helped build North America into an economic giant. Now the giant has grown top-heavy. Unfortunately, it’s the ones on the bottom who are going to suffer when it falls.

Keeping the Peace
By Tom Lessard, C.D.

I was born in Windsor, Ontario in 1937, the seventh child. I had three brothers and three sisters.
My mother was very handy with the sewing machine and needle and thread. She would get hold of Maple Leaf flour bags, take the stitching out, bleach the bags and then join them and make pillow cases, sheets, underwear and curtains. A lot of the time, the bleaching wouldn’t remove all the wording, so the shorts would have the Maple Leaf logo still visible.
My father was a tool and die maker and a part-time car racer at Detroit and Port Huron tracks. He built a house on Riberdy Road, out by the airport in Sandwich East. It was a two-storey building with a semi-detached garage and a good-sized Victory garden.
Everyone was urged to have their own garden during the war. In the summer, as the crops ripened, I’d take a salt shaker and start at one end of the cucumber row, pick a cuke, wipe off the prickers and eat and eat until I was full. When the tomatoes were ready, I’d take on the task of wiping them on my pants or shirt, lick them, add salt and enjoy the taste of fresh vegetables. My sister dug into the onions, which she loved and I didn’t.
Wartime meant rationing. Every family or eligible person received a ration book and coupons with which to purchase meat, butter, gasoline, tires, etc. Every Sunday, my dad would have his bacon and eggs for breakfast. If we were lucky, we’d get the drippings, in which we’d fry bread. It was a real treat. Butter was in very short supply so we’d use lard on our bread. My grandfather, who had a house across the street, would invite one or two of us over for breakfast. It consisted of porridge with ice cream on it. Mmm good.
In the back of our property, there was a huge farm owned by the Walker family, on which they grew acres and acres of cattle corn. When the corn was still edible, we’d pick a few dozen and set up a table on Walker Road (the main street leading to downtown Windsor) and sell it. We’d tell everyone that it was Golden Bantam corn. I understand that one of our customers was Mr. Walker himself.
When there was no corn in the fields, we were able to witness the coming and going of military aircraft of all shapes and sizes either in training or heading to the war zones. Once in a while the “air raid” sirens would go off and we’d have to pull all the blinds down and turn off all unnecessary lights until the “all clear” sounded.

Our home was about five miles from the Detroit river, where there was a 30-foot diving tower and a beach. I remember my oldest sister telling me about the time she and my second oldest brother had 26¢ between them to get there and back and to have a treat. The bus to the beach cost 5¢ each to get there, and 5¢ each to get back. That left a nickel for popcorn.
When they reached their destination and were walking out to the pier, a lifeguard stopped them and asked where they thought they were going. “To the diving tower,” they replied. He pointed to a spot in the river and told them that if they could swim there and back, they could go to the diving tower. They were about 10 and eight years old at the time.
Well, they were good swimmers and had no trouble completing the task, so he allowed them to continue to the tower. When it was time to go home, instead of taking the bus they spent the fare on food and walked the five miles home. It was late when they arrived and my worried parents asked why they were so late. They replied, “You always tell us to take our time getting home.”

To the Crediton Community Centre committee: Thanks for all the work you’ve done and for a great effort in raising the money required to renovate the hall!
Jim: Hope you get well soon!

Advice from Mom
By Rita Lessard

Finally, the old year of 2008 is gone and we welcome in the New Year of 2009. I certainly hope the old year was pleasant enough for everyone and hopefully 2009 will bring much happiness. As we all realize with every passing year that we are getting older, it seems at times things don’t really change.
For instance, with clothing, history has a way of repeating itself. I remember years ago when my kids were young and I was a stay-at-home mom, I didn’t get out of my pyjamas until at least nine o’clock in the morning. As a matter of fact, after the kids went off to school I would scoot over to my friend Joanne’s place for tea, stay a while, and didn’t get dressed until I was ready to do my housework. Looking back on this habit I can appreciate it when the young people stay in their pyjamas all day; they even go to school, do their shopping and all their other fun activities dressed this way. I must admit I was never that bold, but one has to give the kids credit; they don’t seem to worry how they dress, whatever is the fashion: pyjamas, low rise pants, pretty underwear and short- or half-shirts. I really do worry about their cheeks and backs being exposed to the elements.
Like I say, times don’t really change that much. I recall my mother harping on me about always dressing warmly and she was always going on about wearing a hat in the winter time. As she said, heat rises so if you wore a hat, you certainly wouldn’t be cold. When I thought about it I decided to say to her, “So ma, if I wear a hat I could go out without my pants and I’d be perfectly fine.” Not so. I got a good clout for that comment. Kids, I recommend you get those hats on, especially if you don’t cover the rest of your assets.
I also worry about the cats and dogs out in the cold of winter. At this time of year, cats like to snuggle up in a warm place such as a car engine. You might save a cat’s life by honking your horn before starting your car.
My friend Tanya was concerned with her cat’s hair balls; someone told me if she added a teaspoon of vegetable oil to her cat’s daily meal, this would help prevent the situation.

Happy birthday Michael Lessard on January 24.
P.S. I apologize to Mae and Bill Brennan, who last week were forced to witness me putting my garbage out in my pyjamas. Force of habit. All the best in the New Year.

View from the Strip
By Casey Lessard

What a rollercoaster ride of emotions Canadians have been on this month. The scene in Ottawa has polarized the nation, with the Governor-General putting the brakes on a government takeover bid by a Liberal-NDP coalition (let’s be honest, the Bloc is in there, too, even if no one will admit it; however, I think they have less power than the Conservatives want us to believe).
Post-crisis polls say Stephen Harper has more support than he did in October. Personally, the prospect of Stephen Harper winning a majority scares the heck out of me; right now, it’s a real possibility.
Conservative supporters paint the Prime Minister as the victim in this battle, but his economic statement was tailor made to start a fight: he planned to drop the $1.95 voter subsidy, attack labour unions, and eliminate gender pay equity. Coming into a confidence vote armed with an economic statement no one in opposition could support only weeks after the election, Harper seemed genuinely surprised that anyone would stand up to him, especially Stéphane Dion, whose Liberals let him pick on them for the past two years.
I can’t understand when people call the coalition a team of schoolyard bullies. It’s more realistic to call them the victims, and Harper the bully who has been pushing them around for too long. Nothing has changed because he ran to the teacher, who tells them all to cool it.
It seems as if the coalition is doomed, but we’ll see if that’s true. Harper’s support has grown only because Dion’s has dropped (dramatically), and with him out of the way, it will be new ball game come January. Time will tell whether the coalition will emerge stronger or weaker after the prorogation period ends six weeks from now.
More importantly, time will tell whether Canadians will realize that more of us voted for a party other than the Conservatives, which means that if they work together they have the right to run the government. That’s how it works here.
At least this crisis has helped make one thing happen: Canadians are certainly more engaged in politics than they were a month ago. Perhaps next time there is an election, more of us will stand up and be counted. We got ourselves into this mess, after all.

Alternative View
By Lance Crossley

One of the most intriguing aspects of the recent struggle for power on Parliament Hill was the propaganda war. Nowadays we call it public relations, but it still amounts to the same thing: the conscious and intelligent manipulation of public opinion.
In the dramatic lead up to the Governor-General approving Stephen Harper’s request to prorogue Parliament – thereby saving his political career – the country witnessed an ugly battle for the hearts and minds of Canadians.
The anti-coalition propaganda was particularly disgraceful.
The source of this propaganda came primarily from two very well oiled machines: the Harper government and big business.
Let’s start with the Harper government. It is to be expected that politicians with power will try every means to keep it, but the Conservatives resorted to outright lies to prevent the fall of their government.
They relentlessly repeated that this was a separatist coalition (it’s actually an NDP-Liberal coalition that has the Bloc’s blessing) and shamelessly implied this was a coup d’etat (when in fact it is perfectly democratic – Canadians elect a Parliament, not a government). The problem with the Conservative propaganda is that it is manufacturing a national unity crisis and spreading ignorance as to the kind of democratic system we have.
Big business was also against the coalition, although for a different reason: the fear of a government friendly to progressive labour policies. This view was reflected in the corporate-friendly editorial boards at most of the major newspapers. The Globe and Mail said it was “dangerous” to have members of a “left-wing, labour-beholden party” in cabinet. It even demanded Harper resign just to avoid this scenario, even though it endorsed him for leader during the recent election campaign.
The Canadian Chamber of Commerce (CCC), a huge business advocacy group, originally criticized Finance Minister Jim Flaherty’s pathetic economic statement, saying it lacked a real economic stimulus plan. But the powerful lobby group was clearly more worried about the prospect of a coalition. The reason was plainly stated by its president, Perrin Beatty, during an interview with CBC Newsworld where he brought up Bill C-257: a private member’s bill put forth earlier this year by the Bloc Quebecois that would have strengthened Canada’s labour rights. The bill failed but the fact that Beatty used it to explain his opposition to a coalition accurately revealed his motives. Conversely, it also explains why the coalition was so heavily endorsed by the Canadian Labour Congress and so many unions.
Even the Liberals were aware of big business’s opposition, as they went out of their way to tell corporate Canada the NDP would have no significant financial role in a coalition government.
The first casualty in public relations is truth. All the fear mongering by powerful interests prevents Canadians from acting in their own interest. It’s not that everyone has to agree on the idea of a coalition, but the winning idea should not belong to those with the biggest propaganda machine.

Lance Crossley is an award-winning journalist who has worked for The Ottawa Citizen, The Haliburton Echo, and The Prague Post.

Advice from Mom
By Rita Lessard

Since I won’t be writing another column until the New Year, let me take this opportunity to wish all my friends and relatives a very Merry Christmas and all the best in the New Year. Also thanks for your support to Casey’s Grand Bend Strip. I’m sure this has been a very challenging 20 months for Casey but in the long run, quite rewarding. I hope next year we’ll continue providing fun news that will entertain you and make your days lighter and brighter.
As I venture out to do my Christmas shopping, I have to stop and wonder why some mothers insist on taking their young children shopping with them. These little darlings don’t seem to like these excursions too well, or at least that’s the impression I get when I hear these kids crying and rubbing their eyes. Whatever they want, they have to wait for Christmas to come. If they stop their crying, they may get it, but if they keep driving their mothers nuts, perhaps they’ll get something they don’t want.
And what’s up with these mini shopping carts for the kids? Here the little ankle biters have a vehicle to ram into the backs of your legs. And then the screaming and the crying starts again, only this time, it’s the mothers doing the screeching.
I recall when I would go shopping with my mother, and sure enough she’d bravely lead the way while I pursued her with that big shopping cart. You can bet I never missed an opportunity to get her in the legs. The funny thing was, it always seemed to be her bad leg. I guess I wasn’t smart enough to do it on her good leg. For some reason, I was the only one that went shopping with her. I’m sure I don’t know why I was the chosen one. Then again, nobody said you had to be smart to be in my family; I guess my brothers and sisters knew better.
For the longest time, I truly wondered if I was “The Chosen One” because every time my mother was upset, she’d call me “Jesus Rita”. Like the time she tripped and fell on her long fur coat and I had a tough time helping her up. She said, “Jesus Rita, would you stop your laughing and help me up?” A Catholic woman and all! Whew!
I can see where one would get confused with their names. When Casey was young and I got annoyed or excited with him, I said, “Oh Casey! What are you doing?” I guess I called him Oh Casey quite often. One time Casey’s friend Tracy Price came calling on him, and when I answered the doorbell, Tracy said, “Hi Mrs. Lessard, can Oh Casey come out to play?” And like a dummy, I didn’t correct her. I just said, “Oh Casey, Tracy’s here for you.”
Happy birthday Casey on December 16, and Merry Christmas to one and all.

Keeping the Peace
By Tom Lessard

On the 16th of December, 1974, at the South Huron Hospital maternity ward, a cute little guy named Casey Kyle Baxter Lessard was brought into this world. In those days the mother and baby stayed in the hospital for a few days. In the interim, Father Moody visited Rita and Casey and inquired as to his names. Rita told him and his reply was, “They aren’t saints’ names!”
“No,” said Rita, “but we are going to baptize him with the name John,” to which the good Father asked, “Which Saint John?”
“Why Saint John the Baptist,” replied mom. This pleased the priest very much because that was the name of the saint from which his name was derived.
I went to pick up Rita and Casey on the fourth day. We bundled into the car for the trip home. There was a detour along the way because I had promised the staff and customers at the Club Albatross that I would stop in on my way home. Well, they were ecstatic at seeing mom and baby.
I believe it was Alice who suggested that someone phone in the birth announcement to the Times-Advocate newspaper. When asked what the baby’s name was, she gave a list of all the staff and patrons’ names. The girl at the T-A said she couldn’t print that many names for a baby, so we settled on his given ones.
This boy grew up quickly with a super personality and a quick and generous smile. His brothers Tom, Glenn, Mike and Bill were very good to Casey and helped us much in teaching him all he needed to know.
Following grade school at Mount Carmel and high school in Exeter, he entered the University of Western Ontario. While there he became interested in radio, television and journalism. Moving on to study journalism at Fanshawe College, he started developing his interest in photography. A few years later, he returned to school for photojournalism at Loyalist College in Belleville.
His last job as an employee was with the Haliburton and Minden newspapers, at which he was praised for his professionalism. “Enough of working for someone else,” he said, and set up a small business of his own, which everyone now knows as the Grand Bend Strip.
I hope you will all join me and my family in wishing Casey a very happy, prosperous 34th birthday and future. Keep up the good work, and as Santa would say, Ho, ho, ho, Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good night. P.S. that includes you, too, Anjhela. Love Tom and Rita.

View from the Strip
By Casey Lessard

Warning: graphic details of the Rivera and Regier murders follow. Discretion is advised.

If there is any reason people feel uneasy about the Jesse Imeson trial, I suggest it is this: we still have no explanation for why Jesse Imeson decided to kill Carlos Rivera, and Bill and Helene Regier.
At least Imeson has an explanation for the former, claiming that Rivera was sexually assaulting him by performing fellatio as he slept. That’s certainly possible; no one has the right to touch you without your permission, let alone perform oral sex on you. Imeson claims he woke up to see Rivera performing said act, and strangled Rivera to death with his belt. He told Lindsay Glavin that another guy did it, and that he watched as Rivera’s “eyes went white and blood bubbles came from his nose.” Later, he told a Quebec police officer, “the gay guy, if I had to do it again, I would do it.”
With regards to the murders of Bill and Helene Regier, his lawyer relayed an apology at his Oct. 27 trial, telling the Regier family that he didn’t intend to kill Bill and Helene. His alleged lack of intent in the Regier case, and crime of passion argument in the Rivera case seem to have saved him from facing first degree instead of second-degree murder charges.
But this is where I get confused. Why did the crown believe anything Imeson said? He has already proven himself to be a liar and a con artist. In fact, everything he says is suspect, especially his insulting and ridiculous apology.
No one witnessed the murders except Imeson, so I suppose we have to take into consideration his testimony. Fine, believe the method, but doubt the rationale. I will never believe that Imeson did not intend to kill any of his victims, especially the Regiers, whose hands he had tied so they would be helpless. Bill was tied to the posts and rafters holding up the house, and Helene was securely bound on the floor. Neither of them was going anywhere, and Imeson would have had many hours to flee.
So why do it? Why pull the trigger, not once, but many times until they were more than dead? It’s disgusting to think of Imeson’s rationale for the act, and the fact that they were in a harmless state tells me that he had intent. Apparently, he had plenty of time to think about it. And if this is the way he approached a murder he “didn’t intend” to do, how did he approach Carlos Rivera? We will never know.
There is some consolation in the fact that Jesse Imeson is locked up for the next 25 years. It’s the most our justice system can do. So why does he seem pleased? I can’t help feeling that he believes he’s still in control, and that he’s going to be remembered. On the latter point, at least, he’s right.
However, unlike the heroic demon he seems to hope we will recall, I’ll just remember him as a bottom-rung loser who tried to bring others down.
The Rivera and Regier families won’t forget him either. Fortunately, they won’t have to look at his face for another 25 years, and then, as Carol Denomy says, they “will remain vigilant to ensure in 25 years that Jesse Imeson remains behind bars.”
We should all do the same.

What the U.S. and Canadian elections reveal about “democracy”

Alternative View
By Lance Crossley

On the surface, the recent Canadian and U.S. elections seem like a study in contrast. The Canadian election recorded the nation’s lowest voter turnout in history – a paltry 59 per cent – which is a shameful outcome for a country whose average turnout for the last half century exceeded 70 per cent.
Meanwhile in the U.S., voters turned out in historic numbers. Early estimates report that two-thirds of eligible voters made their voices heard – no small feat for a country where only about half of eligible voters marked their ballots during the last 50 years.  
But upon closer examination, both of the North American elections point to two countries that are alarmingly removed from real democracy; that is, an informed public making rational decisions based on how proposed policies will affect them.
Both campaigns, albeit in very different ways, illustrate how elections have moved away from real democracy and have been taken over by advertising firms. Elections are now about selling a product – the candidate’s personality – and not ideas.
Canadians had four national parties that offered a number of distinct policy visions. We had the most neoliberal party in the country’s history (Conservatives), an idea to fundamentally change our tax system (Liberals), an offer to implement a national pharmacare program (NDP), and some of the most environmentally progressive policies this country has ever seen (Green).
These various political visions were met by a collective yawn from the Canadian public. Voting was reduced to whether Dion was a “real leader” and what kind of sweater Harper was wearing.
The Canadian election’s failure was one of branding, not policy.
In contrast, the U.S. offered two candidates whose political differences were grossly exaggerated. Neither candidate represented any real change to American imperial policy. There was virtually no difference in their stance toward so-called Russian and Iranian “aggression”, except for John McCain’s more macho rhetoric. There were real differences to their ideas on Iraq. But the sum of American foreign military involvement will be about the same, as President-elect Barack Obama wants to transfer many of the troops in Iraq to Afghanistan.
Domestically, both McCain and Obama hurriedly offered a no-strings-attached endorsement of Wall Street’s $700-billion bailout, confirming the fact that both parties are firmly in the pockets of the financial elite.
But Americans were galvanized by a despised president and an ailing economy. They were desperate for a hero. Obama, an articulate and poetic speaker, was the perfect personality for the times. He managed to inspire not only Americans but the entire world. But his success was largely based on enthusiasm for his charismatic personality and motivational speeches, not his political ideas.
It’s not that inspiration is not important. But if our elections continue to be determined by either the presence or absence of a cult of personality, then “change” will remain more of a feeling than a reality for both countries.

Advice from Mom
By Rita Lessard

I suppose by now the kids who were out trick or treating have slowly come down from their sugar high. Most people enjoy this holiday because it gives them time to act silly by dressing up in their favourite costumes and partying; sometimes we need an excuse to do that.
My family always enjoyed this occasion to get candy and also to give out the goodies. I recall the time when I was a teenager that, because I was older, I volunteered to take my neighbours’ daughter Suzie out. My older sister stayed home and she would hand out the stuff. Before I left the house, she told me to make sure that I stopped in to our house before I dropped Suzie of because she would save some favours for us. So, after an hour or so, Suzie got a little tired and we quit. But then I remembered my sister telling me she would save us something, so we stopped by and got something from my house.
When we got to Suzie’s house, her mother said, “Rita, why don’t you stay a while and you can sort through the bags and Suzie can share some of the stuff with you.” I agreed to do so, and although Suzie’s not to keen on the idea, she eventually agrees. I have a bit of stuff in my bag that some of my friends gave me, so I’m really not that interested in taking too much and I tell Suzie this, so she says “Okay.”
I’m going through her stuff and I come across a piece of candy I think is fudge, so I say to Suzie, “Oh wow, I would really like to have that fudge. What do you say?” She says, “I don’t think so. I want it.”
I reluctantly let her have it and she decides she’s going to eat it right away while I’m sitting there drooling. She puts it in her mouth and then right away spits it out and yells, “Ew! That’s gross!” So I pick it up and look a little closer. It’s not fudge after all, but a piece of liver that’s nicely wrapped in cellophane.
I knew right away where the liver came from, considering my family had liver for supper that night. As soon as I get home, my sister knows the gig is up just by the look on my face and the evidence in my hand. I’m calling her an ugly witch, which was appropriate for the occasion, and I tell her that her trick backfired because Suzie ended up getting her so-called treat. She was a bit remorseful, but she was still laughing and cackling like the witch she was and she headed off to bed singing Trick or Treat! I never did pay her back.

Birthday greetings
Happy birthday to our son Bill (Nov. 15) and our granddaughter Katie (Nov. 22)!

Keeping the Peace
By Tom Lessard

In the spring of 1958, there was a posting on the board for an increment to go to Wainwright, Alberta for three months attached to the RCEME (Royal Canadian Electrical and Mechanical Engineers) workshop. Of course I applied, and was accepted. I boarded the train in London and met up with the unit in Toronto. The CNR, in its wisdom, gave us our own car along with a porter.
In those days it was generally accepted that most of the men were not averse to having a beer or two. We had a number of Korean and WWII vets with us, a couple of whom tried to teach us younger fellows how to drink. At Sudbury, we had a stopover of a couple of hours while we waited for the cross-Canada train to link up with us. First thing we did after disembarking from the train was to hop a cab and head for the beer and liquor stores to load up. We were going to be on the train for at least two and a half days, so we didn’t want to run dry, but that is what happened.
The porter got word that CN detectives were going to board the train at Fort William (now Thunder Bay) looking for booze, so we collected money and lists from all the guys. They elected me to do the shopping; I got off at the station, jumped into a cab, drove to the appropriate stores, loaded up and headed for Port Arthur (10km down the track).
Arriving at the station, I watched our car for a pre-arranged signal from our porter. It wasn’t long before I got the okay to pull up to the train, unload our booze, pay the cabbie and get on board.
We went our merry way to Calgary and our marshalling area. Calgary had only one drawback for me. At the time, I was a Legion member. One day at about 1 p.m., one of my buddies and I were looking for something to do when we spotted a Legion branch downtown. Hoping to play some pool or darts, we entered the building. We were met at the door and were asked what we wanted. We told him and he asked if we were members of this particular branch. I told him that I was a member back in Ontario. No good. He then asked if I knew any member of this branch. I said no. “Sorry, if you’re not a member of this branch, then you are not allowed in unless signed in by a paid up member.” By the way, we were in uniform. So much for western hospitality.
Despite this experience, I was so impressed by what a beautiful country we live in. I had hitchhiked across in 1956, but had never been able to see it the same way as from a dome car. The north shore of Lake Superior has to be one of the most spectacular sites in our land. The flora, fauna, tunnels and wild animals are breathtaking. I have been all over the States, to Europe and the Middle East; put them all together, and they run a distant second to Canada.

(Note: originally published October 9, 2008. Jesse Imeson plead guilty to second-degree murder, and received three concurrent life sentences with no chance of parole for 25 years.)

View from the Strip
By Casey Lessard

There’s a dangerous game being played in Goderich, at the court where Jesse Imeson faces first-degree murder charges in the deaths of Bill and Helene Regier of Mount Carmel. The London Free Press’ John Miner reported Monday that Imeson’s lawyer Don Crawford suggests Imeson may plead guilty to a lesser charge than first-degree murder in relation to the death of the Regiers and Carlos Rivera. We’ll see what happens October 27.
If Imeson is indeed guilty, I struggle with the concept that he may receive a lesser punishment than he deserves, considering the horror of the crime. If the court accepts a plea that will see Imeson go to prison and be eligible for parole in as few as 10 years, is that better than taking the risk that he could be found not guilty at trial? It’s not surprising that a first-degree murder conviction (the law lumps multiple convictions into one concurrent sentence) is unappealing to Imeson and his lawyer; such a conviction carries a mandatory 25 year sentence before parole can be considered. The question is, will the Crown and the judge believe that’s punishment enough?
It’s an emotional issue. Ultimately, if convicted, Imeson will have to pay for his crimes. I’m reminded of the testimonials given in this newspaper last summer, when I questioned the role of forgiveness in this circumstance.
“In my heart, I am sure that both Bill and Helene would forgive him,” said Marion Sullivan, “because until you forgive you will continue to bleed.”
“This is something that’s going to take a long, long time,” Father Ray Lawhead added. “Forgiveness doesn’t mean you excuse what happened. It doesn’t. He’s responsible for his actions.”
Some day, these murders may be forgiven; they will never be forgotten. Personally, I hope the system ensures that “some day” is far enough in the future that forgiveness is possible.

To the Editor,
After our successful ‘Home and Garden’ tour on July 5, the Horticultural Society asked our members for suggestions on spending some of the money to improve areas around the Bend. Sharon Solden asked that we consider doing something with the very neglected front at the public school. The executive decided that because the school/library is used by so many residents, it was a good idea and we, some of the students and a parent, Joe Hotson (he roto-tilled the area for us) completed the work.
Paul and Anita from Westland Greenhouses donated beautiful fall mum plants and everything was completed in time for ‘Meet the Teacher’ night on Thursday.
In the spring we are going to plant pink and purple coloured plants so the gardens will be ready for the ‘Community in Bloom’ judges to have a look at next year. Pink and purple are the colours they are suggesting for next year and we are going to talk to as many people as we can reach in the area to plant their gardens in pink and purple. 
Please mark your calendar for June 27 next year. That is the date for our next ‘Home and Garden’ tour.
Bob Putherbough
Grand Bend Horticultural Society

To the Editor,
Every year for six years our family has participated in The Walk to D’feet ALS, as my grandfather died from ALS in October 4th, 1985. This year my daughters, aged four and six, wanted to raise money and brainstormed for ideas.
First my daughter Abby wanted to sell live turkeys to people but we explained why that could not happen. Instead, they held a charity barbecue at Hayter’s Turkey Products and raised $450, and with other donations they raised over $850 this year. Abby and Emma wrote letters to No Frills and Sobeys for donations, which the support they received was amazing and we thank them so much for their support as well as Hayter’s for donating all of the turkey burgers and turkey hot dogs.
Emma is in one in the huge t-shirt,  Abby is in the pink,  then there is me (in brown) and my mom Jean Mclean (Nana) it was the 4 of us just after we all finished the walk. 
Jenn Maguire
Grand Bend

Advice from Mom
By Rita Lessard

Since we are preparing to go to the polls for another election, I suppose my column this week should reflect on the matter. Like most people I’m not too sure who I want to vote for, but I will vote and hopefully my choice will be a wise one. I suppose you can view politics like a dating game – those you date and those you marry. The question is, do you want to date or just fool around for a while?
Sometimes marriage and politics can be similar; at the start of either you make promises like loving, honouring, and sometimes obeying. But as time goes by, these promises are hard to keep and eventually some of us get disillusioned and want to change partners and try to go with someone else with a better plan. I know all politicians have to make all these promises in order to get votes, but the time has to come eventually when they have to keep at least some of these promises and quit fooling around.
Taxes are a big issue with any election; like death, there is no escape from either one, but at least death doesn’t get any worse.
October tips

Singing my praises for vinegar again. Everyone seems to know if your dog gets too close to a skunk and gets sprayed you should use tomato juice liberally to get the smell out. Well, you can use vinegar as well, and get the smell out just as effectively. It especially is better if your pooch is white because if you tomato juice the poor dog will be either red or pink. I’m sure this would embarrass Brutus immensely. Vinegar is cheaper, too.

Do you have a fear of flying? My friend Margaret told me she got this tip from a pilot. Once you’re seated on the plane, cross your ankles and place your hands on the armrest with the palms of your hands upright. This relaxes you and your fears apparently will subside.

Tips for tastier burgers: replace bread crumbs with potato chips (any kind you desire). Quite yummy!

Or, how to get into real trouble

Keeping the Peace
By Tom Lessard

Many years ago, there was an upcoming municipal election looming. I resided in Huron Park where there was probably the largest number of voters in Stephen Township. I was pretty well known as a helper, a doer and a goer in the community, therefore, I was approached to run as a candidate. My backers said no one else in Huron Park would runagainst me. Ha ha. When it came time to declare our intentions to run, three Park residents submitted their names. Well, you can guess the outcome; none of us got in.
The next time I was asked to run in an election was with the UAW. I was at the time an employee at one of the union plants. The UAW committee was dominated by mainly women. We were not very pleased with the situation and felt that there was enough dominance at home. Since we couldn’t do anything about the homefront, we thought there was a chance to change things at the union level. Guess what? I won. Whoop dee doo.
There was only one small problem. I had no idea how to do any of the objectives of a president. I tried but to no avail and had to resign and send the job back to the ladies. I began to take courses with the UAW to learn what unions are intended to do for the workers.
One course I took at Port Elgin (which is the UAW school) was a women’s course; there were two males and 128 women. Boy, did I learn a lot.
I was later involved in some intense negotiations, which at times were scary. One set was held in Stratford. The deadline was set for Sunday at midnight. All day at a motel, with the company reps in one room and four or five of us in another, an arbitrator moved back and forth between the rooms bringing offers or rejections for the two teams. The men back at the plants had barrels, signs, picket duties and wood for burning all set to go.
At about 11:30, word came down that the company people wanted to see us in their negotiating room. Up we went. They were all smiles and we were told they had accepted all of our demands. Then the party began.
In the 40 years that I have lived in Stephen Township, I have never been approached by a federal or provincial candidate to give them my vote. I have had correspondence with parliament members and did go with a delegation to see Carol Mitchell in Goderich about funding for our sewers, which were being shoved down our throats.
We finally got some help but not by politicians but by the super efforts of one of our residents. She went and talked to the provincial finance minister and somehow got us $1-million, which worked out to about $3,500 per household. As I resident, I thank you for that.

In the London Free Press two weeks ago, how to reach your federal party:
Conservatives – www.conservative.ca
Liberals – www.conservative.ca
Who are they backing?
Since Rita and I always use our right to vote, we are going to do so a little differently this time. We don’t know any of the candidates, but we do have favourite colours. Mine is red and hers is green. Now our ballots are not a secret.

View from the Strip
By Casey Lessard

It’s a bitter pill to swallow, but – like it or not – Grand Bend area residents will soon be tying into a municipal sewage system. Many people aren’t aware of the impending costs that are associated with the process, but with figures in the tens of thousands of dollars, they need to start planning now. Perhaps you’re one of them.
Crediton faced this crisis two years ago, and the fallout still has residents talking. Just recently, they faced a deadline to pay cash (about $10,000 per lot plus hookup costs) or face mandatory financing at more than five per cent for 20 years; many thought the day would not come, and missed an opportunity to reduce their costs by finding private financing on their own.
While you can’t stop the provincially mandated process that is well on its way, if you live in the area affected by the proposed sewage system (Grand Bend, St. Joseph, and Dashwood), you can start saving your pennies and talking to your bank. The cost isn’t set yet, but you can bet (based on other communities’ experiences) it will be in the five-figure range for most. Do you have that kind of money underneath your mattress? Didn’t think so.
The situation is worst for the residents of Dashwood, who will have to pipe their waste into Grand Bend, and it’s quite a distance. The cost to do so will be between 20 and 30 per cent of their home values for many.
Home values will increase accordingly, residents are told. Tell that to homeowners in Crediton, where home values haven’t changed much and the home sales market is flooded. Don’t be surprised if you see the same situation in Dashwood some day soon.

Remember what each level of government does

To the Editor,
With a federal election campaign now underway, it is an ideal time to draw attention to what each of our three levels of government is supposed to be responsible for, so candidates and leaders will not discuss with voters those things that are not federal areas of jurisdiction.
Health care is not a federal responsibility, and it would be grossly misleading for Canada’s federal politicians to campaign around the nation promising all sorts of money for, and improvements to, each province’s health care system. With the dozen recent deaths linked directly to the listeriosis crisis, the federal government ought to be focusing its Health Canada resources on areas it is responsible for, such as improving the inspection of Canada’s meat industry in the interests of public safety.
Medical wait-times are something the provincial governments must tackle. Federal parties should only be promising the transfer of taxes collected on behalf of the provinces, with no strings attached, and nothing more. Provincial health ministers must be given the room to maneouvre they require in order to ensure the availability of adequate levels of health care services for their residents.
Inner city safe needle injection sites, highway and other infrastructure projects, industrial and labour policies, energy, educational scholarships: These are all provincial jurisdictions. The federal parties have a bad habit of stepping on the toes of the provinces – especially at election time – in order to grab the attention of voters.
There is no shortage of purely federal issues to discuss: the war in Afghanistan, international trade agreements, the federal debt and taxation levels, the Canadian dollar and its impact on Canada’s – and in particular Ontario’s – economy, criminal justice, the successor to the Kyoto Accord and Canada’s poor environmental record, global warming and sovereignty issues in the Arctic.
So Mr. Harper, Mr. Dion, Mr. Layton, and Ms. May, let us please confine ourselves to federal political issues. There is plenty of meat on that bone for you all to chew on.
Brad Harness
Leader, Reform Party of Ontario

Alternative View
By Gloria Martin

In the Sept. 10 Strip, Casey Lessard made comment that he feared a majority government in the federal election, and that, although he couldn’t quite put your finger on it, he “just doesn’t trust him (Prime Minister Stephen Harper).” I have to admit that I resonate with that fear, but I think with good reason.
First off is the fact that we are facing an early election despite Harper’s own pronouncements to the contrary; he says one thing and does another. Second, we have a prime minister who does not respect the will of Parliament by disregarding a majority vote in the house: the vote taken on allowing Iraq war resisters to stay in Canada. Having refused to participate in an illegal war not sanctioned by the United Nations, a war which has committed serious human rights violations, left countless untold dead, with lives and communities utterly destroyed, Harper continues to deport these courageous resisters back to the United States to face prison sentences. This is in spite of the fact that a majority vote was taken in the House of Commons to let them stay. Make no mistake: Canada would be fighting in this Iraq war if the Conservatives had their way.
Perhaps this is why Harper is so insistent on supporting another very unpopular war in Afghanistan. Canadians have heard the pleadings of voices like Afghan’s former MP Malalai Joya urging us to stop supporting her government, one of the most corrupt and criminal governments in the world – a gang of druglords and warlords, many of them wanted for human rights violations. She has told us that 60% of the Afghan people consider this government to be the worst in two decades. She reminds us that it’s a proven fact that no nation can liberate another. Liberation must be achieved by the people themselves – others can only provide support. The majority of Canadians want to support the troops by bringing them home, but Harper is determined to keep them there and watch as many of them return home in body bags. I was proud to call myself Canadian because we were a peacekeeping country concerned for human rights and people in crisis. Now we are involved in a war and supporting a criminal government. Would Harper follow the US in a war against Iran? His actions thus far suggest he well might. He seems more intent on impressing the Republican government than the Canadian people. We need to read the writing on the wall before it happens.
Last but not least is Harper’s reneging of the Kyoto Accord. Faced with the biggest crisis of all time he would rather point a finger at China than take full responsibility for our significant part in the global environmental crisis. Our very life on this planet depends on us taking urgent measures now. Now is the time for strong leadership on this matter because we don’t have until 2050! So am I nervous about the outcome of this election? Very! And with good reason.
For more information please go to www.youtube.com and watch Malalai Joya on Democracy Now! 19June07; Malalai Joya on ABC program on Afghanistan; War Resisters Supporter Catches Up With Stephen Harper; Canada’s Parliament votes to let U.S. War Resisters stay.
Gloria Martin is a Parkhill resident.

Advice from Mom
By Rita Lessard

The word fall has so many meanings. As the season turns, we can look forward to the changing of colours and the cooler weather. In its other form, the term is not as pretty as the season. My little friend Garrett Steffler had a fall last Thursday and the doctor glued the cut together. It’s amazing what they can do today to lessen the occurrence of scars. My guys were not so lucky as every one of them has at least one scar.
This falling business must be hereditary. My mother, for instance, was a fallen woman; no, that’s not right – I should say she fell a lot. That’s better.
My mother used to wear high-heeled shoes and a long fur coat, and I do believe that was her major downfall. I think her troubles started when she was about two years old and she fell down a flight of stairs and broke her nose; I think she tripped over her diaper that time.
It’s not exactly hereditary that my husband Tom has fallen and broken his nose several times, but our son Tommy had a broken nose and two black eyes when he got hit by a swing at the age of two. Falling backward, he also got a crack on the back of his head as he landed on a rock. Talk about bad luck!
Having children is the greatest thing, but this is one project that doesn’t come with a manual of instructions. It’s relatively simple when they are small babies; if all goes well, you just feed them, water them, and then you can put them down to rest. Once they get on their feet, however, you are presented with a whole new ball game; that’s when the fun begins in earnest.
I realize that young mothers are anxious for their children to grow up; be patient and enjoy them when they are small and having small troubles, because the bigger they get, the bigger the trouble.
So take heart Ashley (Garrett’s mom): your son will be fine and hopefully not have too many falls. You can take heart in the fact that Tommy’s fall didn’t do too much damage: he graduated at the top of his class in Grade 8, and while accepting awards at graduation, didn’t fall off the stage once.
(Editor’s note: Mom, you forgot to mention the scar on my forehead, a result of Bill pushing me into the dining room cabinet at age 3. I can still remember the bloody drive to South Huron Hospital and Dr. Gans stitching me up. Ah, the memories!)

What to do when you have to go

Keeping the Peace
By Tom Lessard

At Protective Plastics Limited in Huron Park, we built fiberglass reinforced plywood panels, roofs, and doors for the trucking industry. You didn’t need to be on dope to work there because after a day in the plant you were pretty well flying.
As in other companies, PPL had its share of entertainers. For instance, while standing atop 50’x11’ roofs, grinding at the excess resin, all of a sudden the air supply would stop. You’d check the grinder and the hoses and then holler for someone to turn the compressor back on. “It is on,” someone would reply. It wasn’t until you were frustrated that someone would pop up from under the trolley that the mold was on and yell, “Surprise!” The son of a gun was under there crimping the hose to stop the air supply.
Over in plant #5, there was only one washroom. One morning about an hour in the shift, one of the employees had to go. He got to the washroom only to find it was occupied. He told the occupant repeatedly to hurry up, but to no avail. He finally couldn’t wait any longer and ran to the next building to do his business. The stall stayed occupied all day meaning that the others had to travel to do their thing. When you looked under the stall door, there was a pair of boots with coveralls down on the top of them, so you surmised that it was truly someone in there.
What had happened was a prankster entered the stall and placed the boots and coveralls to look as though there was someone there, locked the door and crawled out underneath and went to work.
Another time, he put a pair of boots at the toilet facing the back wall, took off the tank cover, disconnected the water hose so that the water kept running (to make a sound as if someone was urinating), exited the same way as before and carried on as if nothing was amiss.
There are many humourous stories of the fine crews that made their living in those plants in Huron Park, and the atmosphere was such that you were happy to get to work each morning to find out what was going to happen that day.

View from the Strip
By Casey Lessard

And they’re off. While there are several stories about racing and riding in this week’s edition of the Strip, the real story for the month is the fact that we’re faced with another federal election after Prime Minister Stephen Harper’s visit to Rideau Hall this weekend.
I heard the NDP and Bloc will make the difference this time, and I hope the Green Party gains some ground. But the reality is grim for now. My (distant?) dream is that the Greens win an election some day. But Canada’s political landscape seems more fractured than ever, and this election comes down to a battle of personality as much as policy.
What scares me the most is the prospect that Harper will win a majority government October 14. Why? I can’t put my finger on it, but for some reason, I just don’t trust him. That said, I’m not sure what the alternative is. If it’s supposed to be Stephane Dion, there’s something about him that makes me think his is the wrong party for which to vote.
I met the prime minister once – shortly before his election win – when I worked at CKCO, and he sat beside me as he performed an interview. He’s handsome and friendly, and really seems like a regular, nice guy. That’s his real personality. So why does he come across as a jerk on television?
Anjhela and I almost met Stephane Dion this summer in Toronto at the Green Living show, but we decided to pass up the opportunity. We just couldn’t think of something to say to him. Anjhela said he was handsome, and he’s taller than he looks. Apparently he’s really smart, but I can’t help thinking it shouldn’t have been him winning the leadership in 2006. There was so much hype around Michael Ignatieff and Bob Rae that I can’t help thinking it should have been one of them.
They’re likely both relieved and waiting for Dion to fade with a loss. Today, it seems inevitable.

To the Editor:
Your recent interviews with the Kovar family and with Grand Bend’s CAO on the tragic anniversary of the drowning of Jule Kovar is much appreciated, although such an event is never celebrated but remembered with sympathy and serious regret. Jule’s drowning, and this summer’s death of Ryan Albrecht under similar circumstances, remains an indelible blemish on the town and tourist community we are.
I really appreciate your personal recall of conversations with the Kovars. Their pain and loss are unimaginable.
Also, the research you did, and interview with Mr. Byrne, the Lambton Shores CAO, reveals in easy to understand terms the program in place, which is out of balance in the financial terms and in terms of the timing that the municipality allots for beach protection by lifeguards.
Even nowadays, conservative institutions like banks do not run 9-5 services. So why in heaven’s sakes would a tourist safety service have such short hours of lifeguard hours, and limited safety equipment on site until the last drowning sparked the return of lifesaving rings on the beach.
With the great amount of revenue generated each summer mostly by visitors to the parking lots, offset by the  $48,000 cost of seasonal lifeguard service, clearly there is room for a much greater expenditure for this protection service, both by extending the hours and increasing the personnel needed. Maybe, just maybe, next year, with the much ballyhooed beach enhancement underway, someone at council will ask for and get the funding to allow more personnel and less bricks and mortar, especially with the past evidence and practices of ignoring town assets and policies, such as the current beach bathroom/structure and main-street parking, and streetscape.
We can expect much greater parking revenue in 2009 as there will be more spaces at the beach, and likely some type of metered parking system on the main street. In light of the changes coming, let’s not allow mediocrity to be an acceptable standard on the beach or Main Street. Grand Bend can promote itself as the best and safest beach on Ontario’s West Coast.
Blue Flag beach designation does not require live lifeguard protection, but hopefully we would continue to allocate a large dollar value to keeping that in place, whether it comes from parking revenues or from the ever-increasing tax base from residents and business. But clearly, taxation need not be the source to provide this service or to pay for the planned Beach Enhancement.
I look forward to this beach being renovated, and being the tourist draw it should be, but with sensible first-class concepts and ideas that maintain focus on the lake and beach; after all, the plans are to leave the lake and pier in place for the foreseeable future. Future generations will be left with the legacy of maintaining the new structures and maintaining this community assets and spirit of Grand Bend going forward.
Again to those families whose lives have been permanently changed by drowning deaths in this community, our heart felt regrets and sympathy in very inadequate.
Robert Webb
Grand Bend

Reader: Why aren’t police ticketing violators?

To the Editor:
All the kids are back in school and most of the visitors of Grand Bend have gone. The little town is almost empty. As I made my way to the bank I was a bit early so as I waited outside for 10 minutes and not to my surprise I counted 4 cars that parked in the handicapped parking space. I just shock my head and wondered is this ever going to stop.
In this town of 1000 people, the law is not hard for police to enforce. I have to ask why people park there. Why? Because nothing is being done to stop them. There is no respect for the people who really need to use these spaces. I ask myself why this bugs me, as I don’t use the spaces and I don’t know anyone who is in a wheelchair. I really can’t answer that.
To the people who abuse and use the handicap spaces, how would you like it if I were to park in your driveway and make you walk down the street to your house. You would be upset at me, wouldn’t you? So why is it that you people who do not need a wheelchair space park in these spaces and think it’s okay.
Their argument may be, Yeah, I’m only going to be a minute. Another we’ve all heard is, I only live down the street so I’m okay to drive drunk.
I do love the law that reads handicap parking only. Why make it a law if police are not going to enforce it? I was upset last year when I needed the help of the Grand Bend police. I went to the downtown location in the wintertime when the town was dead, tapped on the door and a female officer looked at me and pointed to the phone outside. The phone didn’t work and I tried to tell her that, but she just looked at me as if to say, I don’t have time and don’t care to talk to you. She walked away and left me standing there. I thought, What would it have taken her to come to the door to see what I wanted? There could have been a police officer shot lying on the ground for all she knew.
This example shows me that they simply don’t care. But I think not all police officers are bad, and neither are all of the people who park in handicap spaces.
Patti Wilton
Via GrandBendStrip.com

Advice from Mom
By Rita Lessard

Even though summer doesn’t officially end until September 21, it ends for most of us when the kids go back to school. Personally, I think I’ll take it easy for the two weeks we have left, and hopefully we’ll have some sunny days so I can relax in the sun, watch the neighbourhood kids get on the school bus, and reflect on the happy faces of parents who watch their little darlings trudge on their way to the great task of learning.
It has never been easy for most parents to see the little ones off, but as time goes by I’m sure they welcome the departure, especially when the young people reach Grade 6 or 7 and are more independent, and are hopefully still going to school whether they want to or not.
I realize that schooling isn’t always easy, especially learning the English language. Take, for instance, some of the following sentences:

With all the words in our English language, it’s half a wonder we are so very confused. Some other words to consider: polish, desert, row, sewer; all have different meanings when used as a noun or verb.
Mathematics is yet another great challenge. I wonder whether students are taught how to count, subtract, multiply and divide in school these days because I notice it’s often not a strong suit for many of the young people I work with. It’s been quite a while since I’ve been in school, so I imagine the teaching methods have changed. Regardless of how you are taught, an education is very important, so stay in school as long as you can; you’ll never regret it.
Congratulations to our very dear friend Bill Papineau of London, who celebrated his 80th birthday this weekend.

Oh where, or where, did our little vacuums go?

Keeping the Peace
By Tom Lessard

A lot of strange and wonderfully humourous goings-on occurred in Huron Park in the 70s and 80s.
One time I was employed in the stock room at Hughes Columbia Yachts and was asked by my boss to come in on a Saturday morning to help him do an inventory of all the boats.
Each boat had a kit lock up, in which was stored most of the parts and installation equipment for the employees to use and install in and on the boat. Well, we got at it and spent about four hours checking items against the boat inventories.
At about noon, one of the lead hands approached my boss and asked if he could find a vacuum cleaner as the one off his line had gone missing. We hunted all through the plant to no avail. It seemed all the vacuums had disappeared. This was a strange occurrence. With all the vacuums in the plant gone, someone either went to the store or brought one in from home.
An investigation eventually found out what had happened. Word got around that one of the employees need a few dollars. He rounded up all the vacuums, took them home and had a yard sale.
Case closed.

View from the Strip
By Casey Lessard

I guess summer’s over, now that the kids are getting ready for school again. Anjhela and I are getting ready again, too. In preparation, we’ve both taken a brief vacation and it’s over already. Where does the time go?
With all these people heading back to school, it’s nice to be able to encourage those who aren’t going back to consider the importance of lifelong learning. Partners in Learning (pg. 6) is a great way to learn more about yourself, your neighbours and topics of concern to all of us. After all, life continues after retirement; in fact, it seems as if the more available you are, the busier you get.
A group of seniors keeping busy is the squad producing Babes of the Bend at Grand Cove (pg. 3). We had a great time producing the photos you see here, and I’m sure the show will be lots of fun.
It’s been nice to watch the Olympics on television, especially considering we don’t own a TV. We’ve spent many nights at our friends’ house this month cheering on Canadians and the underdogs.
If you want to cheer on locals about to make a splash on the world stage, check out the Bluewater Tug of War team heading to the world championships next week. The tournament website has a live video stream.
Grand Bend favourite Mookie Morris is out of Canadian Idol, but local motocross rider Dylan Kaelin had more success at the Walton TransCan championships. He won two divisions, and is hoping to get a sponsored ride in the States this year. Keep up the good work!
Speaking of good work, South Huron DHS principal Jeff Reaburn got a promotion to the board office, so congratulations are in order. I’m sure the students and staff will miss you, so good luck with your new position.
I’d like to mention an oversight from our food issue: I was talking about vegan food, and I forgot to mention the great burritos and other vegetarian offerings at Jalapeños on the main strip. If you can think of other great veggie places, let me know and perhaps I’ll have to do a vegetarian issue soon.

To the Editor,
Your recent edition covering the drowning of Jule Kovar was thought-provoking reporting at its best. For too long, safety at Grand Bend’s main beach has been an issue. While studies and reports are highly commendable, common sense might be a good way to start.
The flags flying from the lifeguard posts look like a piece of rag someone left on the beach and can only be seen when you are within a few feet of the chair. In one case, the flag showing the safety level for swimming is completely obscured by a Canadian flag flying from the same site. While nationalism is commendable, the only flag that should be flying is the one related to water safety. In addition, two of the four lifeguard posts are usually unmanned. Both are on the borders of the beach: one close to the pier where Jule was drowned, and the other at the Oakwood end where the most recent tragedy occurred.
Signs indicate that the beach is supervised; they should be revised to read “ Supervised Occasionally”. My adult children recently bodysurfed with life jackets and were rightly asked to get out by a lifeguard when the waves became dangerously high. To their surprise they were advised to return after 6 p.m. when the guards would be gone for the night. How responsible is that?!
A flagpole should be erected on the beachhouse roof and large coloured flags purchased to indicate swimming safety. These could be seen as people approach the beach; when a red flag is flying, local merchants might even benefit should families choose to stay away from the water. Lifeguards should either be on duty at all four posts from morning until dusk or the sign should indicate that the beach is not supervised. Finally, the water surrounding the pier should be cordoned off to prevent access to swimmers.
These suggestions could be put into effect immediately without costly studies and reports. We all know the tragedies that have occurred in the past few years, let’s do what we can now to make our beach safe.
Dinah Taylor
Grand Bend

To the Editor,
I would like to comment on the lifeguard issue because it just goes to prove that Grand Bend lifeguards are doing a wonderful job. I do feel for the families who have lost people due to drowning. You could sit down day after day to try to figure out how to improve the safety of people. If parents could be there every minute of the day to protect their children, they would be, but we all know that is not possible.
People need to take responsibility for their own actions. Leaving life rings on the beach after hours is not the right thing to do because people who come to Grand Bend only have one thing on their minds: drinking and having a good time. They have little respect for people’s property; they steal things just for the fun of it. If there is no lifeguard on duty then it’s up to you to decide whether you want to take the chance to go in the water. We can’t expect lifeguards to be on duty 24-7.
Patti Wilton
Via GrandBendStrip.com

Advice from Mom
By Rita Lessard

According to the dictionary, old means having lived or existed for a specific time, so even if you are two, three or sixty, you are old. So if you think you’re old, you can feel better knowing it’s true and that you’re not alone. As the old saying goes, it’s a mind over matter thing; if you don’t mind, it doesn’t matter.
Just for you, I created an old alphabet for this column.
Two old aged people kindly agreed to live with an old bat of a mother-in-law, who brought along her old cat and old dog, who all ate from old earthenware dishes. The old fart of a husband was always complaining about the old greasy food while wearing his old hat – which made him look like an old idiot – while the old juices spewed from his old kisser, which resembled an old lemon that seemed to have been permanently set on his old man face. Perhaps this was because his old nag of a wife constantly reminded him of his old ogre of a mother that she had to put up with ever since she moved in when she got her old-age pension years ago.
The mother liked to be treated like an old queen and much to the wife’s distress, she had a hard time adjusting to their living arrangements. One of her main concerns was the fact that if the old lady sat too long on her old rump, she would get old sores on her old tush and this would make her oh so old ugly to live with and then they would probably never get to fulfill their old vacation plans because they’d be stuck trying to find someone to look after the dear old soul. She imagined going in their old Winnebago to places where they would buy postcards to send with old xxx’s and old “Yes, we are having a great time” notes, and finally getting all the old zzz’s that they’d hankered for all those years. Whew! Enough already with the old alphabet.

Helpful hints
I haven’t given any in a while, but here are a few:
Never wash windows on a sunny day – they will dry too fast and leave streaks.
Bee sting – rub a slice of onion to ease the sting.
Mosquito bites (this is old advice that I gave previously) – dab vinegar on bites to relieve itching.

Reminder:
The 2nd annual Bill and Helene Regier memorial golf tournament is Sunday, September 7. Golf is $100 per person, or if you don’t golf, you can attend the dinner for $25 per person. Plus buy tickets for a “wheelbarrow of cheer”. For info: 519-237-3593.

Keeping the Peace
By Tom Lessard

Back in the good old days – the early 70s, that is – there was a company in Huron Park by the name of Hall Lamp. It was a large employer that produced taillights and mirrors. The company used most of the industrial park’s hangars.
In the southwest corner of Plant 3, the shipping department was staffed by two very competent forklift drivers and a clerk typist who knew virtually everything there was to knw about shipping, especially how to get those shipments across the border by car, truck or airplane. Her name was Julie.
Now in that office there was a baseboard that ran around the perimeter; it was about 5” high by 3” wide. Along the baseboard ran one of Julie’s pets – a mouse. She would place peanuts, candies or whatever she had left over from her lunch on the baseboard. You could walk in almost any time during the day and watch that mouse chomping down on the goodies.
A year passed and Julie felt it was time for a birthday party for her pet. Arrangements were made at the Club Albatross, decorations were purchased, a cake was made and invitations were sent to all management personnel and a few workers who we knew could get away. The mouse had a mouse house that we took to the bar, in which it had a TV set, a portrait of Mickey on the wall, and a sofa with two little mice seated watching a Disney “Mickey Mouse show”, probably Annette and the Mouse Club.
The day arrived and everyone gathered at the Albie on the dance floor. Tables were set and balloons and hats were provided. A toast was made and everyone sang “Happy Birthday”. Then we ate and imbibed a little more while presents were opened. It was a wonderful party. S/he got lots of neat gifts, mostly food.
One day a stray cat arrived on the shipping office doorstep. It was a cute little dirty furry mess. Julie, the animal lover, took it into her domain. It had to have some place to stay so a house was provided with a blanket, a bowl and a litter box; we called it “Julie’s cat house”. Of course, with a little imagination, you can figure out what we called the cat.
We had a lot of fun with that cat and it got along well with the mouse. An elderly foreman, Vic, would take the cat home every weekend for a cleanup. He rigged up a length of twine and tied a foam seal from a Chrysler taillight to use as a leash and would take the cat for a walk through the plant. The women on the lines loved that cat.
One day Julie set the cat on her desk and he pawed the electric typewriter. The words that appeared on the sheet of paper made us realize we had been calling him the wrong name. Apparently his name was OIY OIY.

Come on out to the Crediton Harvest Family Fun Day September 6 at the park. Lots of entertainment, fun and games, and plenty of good food. Get your tickets for the top prize of $5200 worth of gas in aid of our building fund.

View from the Strip
By Casey Lessard

I didn’t ask Richard and Anna Kovar how much they would be willing to pay to bring their daughter Jule back to life; instead, I’ll put the question to you. If you were able to give money to revive your child, would you pay $20,000, $50,000, $100,000, $1 million?
This is not a budgetary issue, as Lambton Shores CAO John Byrne says (see following interview). If the budget were your family’s, you would find the money, right? And you would find it right now instead of thinking about it and waiting for someone to tell you it’s the right thing to do.
So why is it, then, that Lambton Shores continues to wait for a report from a professional body analyzing the situation at Grand Bend beach before it makes a real move to secure the safety of swimmers at the beach? I’m sorry, but a few life rings are not enough.
The fact is, a life ring is useless if there is no one on the beach to throw it to a person who is drowning. Like the saying about a tree falling in the forest, if someone drowns when the beach is empty, does anybody see?
I’m surprised that no one has the foresight to say, until a report is done this fall, that we will go above and beyond the minimum (life rings) to make sure our residents and guests are safe. I use the word guest because that’s what a tourist is. They’re not strangers who don’t deserve our attention. They are guests whose money we want, yet whose safety we cannot ensure. Worse yet, the guests who we fail the most are those who are most vulnerable: young people like Elizabeth Tse, 20, Jule Kovar, 14, and Ryan Albrecht, 17.
What is the best we can do until the report comes in? In a 2001 United States report called Lifeguard Effectiveness: A Report of the Working Group, commissioned by the National Center for Injury Prevention and the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention, researchers found that the chance of drowning at a beach patrolled by lifeguards is less than one in 18 million per year. In one example, the study – compiled using statistics from the U.S. Lifesaving Association – noted that in 1990, five people drowned on Memorial Day at American Beach in Nassau County, Florida, one year after lifeguards were removed because of budgetary restraints. A short time later, lifeguards returned and the number of drownings dropped to zero for the eight years leading up to the report’s release.
Grand Bend’s lifeguards are on duty five hours a day during the week and seven hours a day on weekends (12 noon to 5 p.m. Monday through Thursday, and 11 a.m. to 6 p.m. Friday through Sunday and holiday Mondays). Friday morning, when our cover shot was taken, there were still none on the beach at 9:20, and there were people swimming in very rough conditions. Among them were Jacey Gardner (on cover) and her friend Breanne Johnston, both 14, of Windsor. They were attracted to the waves for “the rush,” Johnston said. “It’s fun because it makes for bigger waves,” Gardner added.
Where would those girls be if Stephanie Donaldson and I were not meeting there that morning? And they weren’t the only ones swimming in the 3’-4’ waves; we also saw a woman with her two young children and a man with his toddler.
Lifeguards are more than rescuers. In fact, their most important role may be to prevent swimmers from putting themselves in danger in the first place. Why do people keep drowning here? I don’t think it’s a coincidence that the last three victims have drowned after lifeguards go off duty.
With a season that runs from the end of June to Labour Day in September, the beach patrol costs the municipality $48,000 per year. That’s not much when you consider that the town brings in $350,000 annually from its parking lots. Even a round-the-clock patrol wouldn’t equal the income from people visiting Grand Bend.
If stores were being robbed on Main Street, or pedestrians being stabbed, would the police put a set of handcuffs on the station wall after hours? Surely someone would see a trend and step up patrols. Don’t our beachgoers deserve the same treatment?
The Kovars are waiting for an answer.

Keeping the Peace
By Tom Lessard

Hey kids, who wants to go to the beach?
That was a stupid question to ask on a hot summer’s day. I ended up with nine kids loaded into my good-sized car. I put some pieces of cardboard in the trunk for the sand dunes and off we went. In those days, there were no restrictions on seatbelts or number of people in a car.
We arrived at McPherson’s corner and turned west. Just behind the restaurant there’s this huge dune, where we pulled over. The kids jumped out, grabbed the cardboard and climbed the hill. Going down is fast and easy. There should be a skilift erected to take you back up. The kids don’t mind the climb, but I did it once and quit.
After they had worn themselves out, it was back in the car and off to the beach. Someone spotted a store in Port Franks, so we had to buy popsicles. You have to keep kids happy, and the popsicles kept them quiet for a little while.
At the beach I gave them all instructions about staying close together and keeping close to shore. I stood at the edge of the water and kept counting one to nine continuously so I didn’t lose anyone. An hour or so of swimming and it was back to the dune for another hour or so, then back to the beach. I must have ended up with enough sand in my car to fill a sandbox. We had a great day and all arrived home safe and sound.

Kids aren’t the only ones who like to play in the water. The Optimist Club of Huron Park periodically held dances in the rec centre on the industrial side. One night in particular, we had a good crowd and everything was proceeding well until time to close. As a member of the setup and cleanup committee, I looked around for my helpers. Most of them had disappeared.
I did a lot of cursing, but it didn’t bring them around. Finally they began to show up. It seems they had slipped through the side door, gone into the dressing room to strip, and then went skinny dipping. One person kept a lookout while the rest had a good time. I found out that this had been going on for some time.

Be sure to get your tickets for the Crediton Community Centre building fund draw. You could win $5200 worth of gas. Watch for sellers in your area.
Plus: Remember to purchase your tickets for the Crediton Roast Beef Dinner held on August 19th –5:15-7:15 at the Recreation Hall in Exeter.

Advice from Mom
By Rita Lessard

I know we have had a bit of rain in the past couple of weeks, but when it’s sunny and warm after the rain, it is quite wonderful. And although we complain about the rain, my view is, at least we can take consolation in the fact that we don’t have to shovel that stuff. As everyone knows, we are truly blessed to have so much clean and safe water.
I remember when I was young, we were very fortunate to have running hot water. For some reason, though, we didn’t have a sink in our kitchen, so when we washed the dishes we had to get the hot water from the bathroom tap, put it in a basin and then we’d get down to doing that dreaded task. My sister Carol liked watching TV at that hour, so she chose to dry the dishes, which she could do when the commercials were on. I was okay with this plan.
One night I decided to play a trick on Carol. As soon as she left the room for the umpteenth time, I started to take the clean dishes out of the cupboard and dip them in the water and put them on the rack for her to dry. This went on for a while, and because she was so engrossed in her show, she didn’t take notice of what I was doing. Finally when she came to her senses she said, “Gosh. It seems like there’s no end to these darn dishes.” I just smiled and shrugged and said, “Oh well, it’s our job, so we may just as well get it over with.” Naturally, I’m thinking how much longer can I keep up with this farce!
Well, I was soon to find out. I didn’t realize her TV show was over and she had come back into the kitchen. There I was doing the dirty deed and she caught me red-handed taking the clean dishes out of the cupboard. “Aha,” she says, “so this is what you’ve been doing!”
I kind of grinned and did the shrug thing again and said, “Whoops!” Well, you can imagine that she was thoroughly ticked. “That’s okay,” she says. She took the remaining dishes out of the basin, put them on the drain rack and then to my utter shock, she picked up the basin of dirty, soapy water and ceremoniously dumped it over my head. From that day forward, I convinced my mother that it might be a better idea if we all take turns doing the supper dishes – alone.
This trick taught me a good lesson because when my sons grew up and were able to do the dishes, they each had their own night to do the dishes, but definitely solo. I guess my sister didn’t appreciate my sense of humour, but what the heck, if you don’t have a sense of humour, it’s quite likely you don’t have much sense at all. Enjoy the water and keep safe this summer.

Happy 50th anniversary to Bill and Mae Brennan, who celebrated this past weekend with family and friends.

View from the Strip
By Casey Lessard

Erryn Shephard of F.I.N.E. asked me the other day what I like to eat. I struggle to respond, but here goes. I love pizza and fries, a good burger, pasta, Indian-style food, burritos, and chocolate. Lots of chocolate.
One catch, though. I’m vegan, which means I don’t eat animal products. So my pizza has no cheese, my burger is a veggie burger, and my chocolate is dark chocolate. And while we’re at it, let’s talk organic and local.
It’s not easy shopping or eating out as a vegan, I must admit. There’s not a lot of pre-packaged food for me to eat, and restaurants often struggle with the concept (although some, like the ones featured in this issue, are eager to experiment). So, against all odds, I’ve learned to cook. And I like it.
I love eating high quality, local and organic vegetables, and finding creative ways to use them. I wasn’t always this way. Five years ago, I was on my way to being overweight, and I didn’t like vegetables that had funny names. It’s not my mom’s fault. You can ask her.
Now that I’ve discovered real food (thanks to Anjhela’s insistence), I don’t know what I would do without it. I’m sure our restaurant friends at F.I.N.E., Hessenland, and elsewhere would agree.
Good food is all around us, and we’re lucky to live surrounded by such abundance. If we don’t appreciate it, it won’t be here forever. I suggest you take a cue from the people at Sunnivue in Ailsa Craig, and embrace real food while you can. This is a great season to eat local food, so what are you waiting for? Aren’t you hungry yet?

Alternative View
By Anjhela Michielsen

Somewhere between 1500 and 3000 miles (or 2400 to 4800 km) is the average distance your food has travelled to land on your plate (Leopold Center for Sustainable Agriculture, Iowa State University). And the numbers are climbing. In our modern era, these may not seem astonishing because we have come to accept and reap the benefits of a globalized market. It is not shocking to see produce stamped with the words Product of Mexico, Israel, Peru or, most frequently, U.S.A.. With most shoppers concerned about the price of their food, few care where the produce is coming from.
This is slowly changing. Our food security is diminishing, and our concerns about the environmental impact of imported products are growing. These concerns include: pesticide and herbicide use; genetically altered crops; fuel consumption due to transportation; and human and animal rights concerns. As a result, some people are looking for alternatives to the supermarket shelves.
In 2005, B.C. couple, Alisa Smith and James MacKinnon decided to try something that is now coined ‘The 100 Mile Diet’. They committed to eating within a 100 mile radius (160 km) of where they live for one year. They have since written a book recording their journey and findings called The 100 Mile Diet – A Year of Local Eating. They found many environmental, social and health benefits from their experiment, and have since continued with their commitment and challenging others to follow their example.
The environmental benefits to eating locally are the most obvious: as confirmed by Iowa State University researchers, regional diets decrease fuel consumption by up to 20% as opposed to typical North American diets. There are many other reasons that eating locally benefits the consumer individually: an increase in taste because of freshness; direct connection to the farmer and their farming practices; support to local economies and consumption of less processed and packaged food, leading to weight loss and better overall health.
We are privileged to live in one of the most prosperous farming areas in the world. When you really think about it, there is a lot you can get within 160 km of where we live. There are many resources right under our noses, like the Grand Bend and Pinery farmers markets, the Sunnivue organic farm – featured in this issue – and all of the various local farms that are too numerous to count. You don’t have to drive far to start seeing farm after farm. We even have wineries for wine lovers out there.
It may take some creativity and a little more thought, but eating a local diet is highly beneficial for the environment, the local community and personal health.
If you decide to take up The 100 Mile challenge or have already, the Grand Bend Strip wants to hear about it!

Editor’s Note: The book is available at The Currant Organic General Store on Parkhill’s Main Street.

Advice from Mom
By Rita Lessard

Shut your mouth and eat your supper!
How often have you heard that said, and when you stop to think about it, can you really do that? What the heck were our mothers thinking?
I remember my father saying, “If you put the food on your plate, you have to eat it.” My brother Bob hated peas, but nevertheless he would always put them on his plate and he couldn’t leave the table until he ate them. That wasn’t too smart. I, on the other hand, didn’t normally take something I didn’t want to eat, but if I did, I was smart enough to make sure I had a ready pocket to hide what I didn’t want. (It’s a good thing I liked creamed corn.) We couldn’t afford a dog, so we always envied the skinny kids with their fat dogs.
Sometimes my mother would confuse me, for instance whenever I wouldn’t eat my dinner, she would say, “Eat your dinner. Do you realize that the poor starving kids in China would give their right arm to have that meal.” If I couldn’t eat my mother’s cooking, why would I subject the poor kids in China to eating it? They’ve suffered enough; why would I add to their plight?
I know I’ve heard other mothers saying this, too. I say stop it, send some money to the mission and leave us out of this eating business. Most mothers worry too much when it comes to their kids’ eating habits, but believe me, kids will eat when they’re hungry.
Many foods we consume are very good for us, and others not so. Do you notice that the rich sugary foods we so love are said to be fattening and not so good? On the other hand, fruits and vegetables are very good to eat. Working at Tim Horton’s, I’m often tempted to indulge in the sugary paradise. For about the last seven years, I have always brought my own break food, which basically consists of fruits, veggies and granola. These foods keep me alert and full of energy so I can stay on my feet.
Some people suffer health problems because of what they eat. A common complaint is heartburn. My son’s mother-in-law suffered with this ailment for several years until someone suggested she take the root of ginger, soak it in hot water, let it steep for 10 minutes, and then drink it. Apparently this works; it certainly would beat taking drugs all the time. That’s all for this week, folks!

Keeping the Peace
By Tom Lessard

The air force had recently moved out of Huron Park when we moved from London in April 1968. There were very few tenants in the community, so when five of us army guys moved in, we had our choice of houses. Gradually, as time passed, word got around and the houses filled and the community came alive.
It’s probably hard for people who haven’t been to Huron Park to realize how good of a place it was to live.
For example, we had an arena and a curling rink, two swimming pools (one public and one private), a four-lane bowling alley, and recreation centre with basketball and volleyball courts. There was a tennis court, a walled-in lit baseball diamond, and a quarter-mile track surrounding a soccer field. All of the above were situated on the industrial side of the county road.
On the housing side, the elementary school had two ball diamonds, and a play area with slides, teeter-totters, and a sand box. The school had a large gymnasium with the standard basketball courts and a stage.
The school contained classes for kindergarten to Grade 8, and later included Huron Hope school for special needs children.
There was plenty of employment in Huron Park. We had a postal outlet, IGA grocery store, fire department with full- and part-time firemen, and a garage with a mechanic and gas pumps. The airport had (and still has) a well-lit combination of runways and a searchlight. Centralia College of Agricultural Technology occupied dormitories and classrooms vacated by the air force. There was a veterinarian department with meat inspectors and labs. There were roughly 300 students at any given time, and the college employed cooks, kitchen staff, caretakers, cleaners, teachers and administration staff.
Numerous companies occupied the various large hangars and smaller buildings. Hall Lamp (450 employees) leased most of the hangars assembling taillights and mirrors. Hughes Boats built sailing yachts for customers from around the world. Accumold blasted dies for the mining companies. Dunline built pads for the oil fields. Acme Neon Signs employed crews. The Club Albatross supplied after-hours refreshments for the tired workers. They also ran a snack truck for the industries.
I have probably left our some of the smaller outfits that operated in the early years. My apologies.
Many changes have been made since that time. Companies have moved out and new ones have moved in. We, too, moved out only a few years ago, but it remains a great place to live.
(Editor’s note: 1960s RCAF Centralia is the setting for former resident Anne-Marie MacDonald’s 2003 novel The Way the Crow Flies, a fictional account of Lynn Harper’s murder at RCAF Clinton, of which Steven Truscott was convicted and eventually acquitted.)

View from the Strip
By Casey Lessard

Today, we remember the deaths of Bill and Helene Regier in their home one year ago. Our thoughts are with the family and friends of these community leaders, who are dearly missed.
When we asked one of the Regiers’ sons what we should do for the one-year anniversary, we were told last year’s special edition of the Grand Bend Strip was the most fitting tribute. If you have not read our national award winning report, it is available online:
August 1, 2007 edition.

The man accused of murdering the Regiers, Jesse Norman Imeson, faces trial this winter.

View from the Strip
By Casey Lessard

No one can deny the fact that the arts are an important part of our community. All you have to do is look at this issue of the Grand Bend Strip to see the creativity of the people who live in our community. From musicians to actors, dancers to cardboard boat builders, you can’t hide from the interesting ways people spend their spare time.
That’s why it’s such a joy to see an expansion at the River Road building home to the River Road Gallery and now Sunset Arts and the Grand Bend Art Centre. It’s been a long time coming, and the leadership of people like Teresa Marie and Milford Purdy are what we need more of in this community. Not to say other people aren’t stepping up; I see other artists and arts supporters on a regular basis taking leadership roles in community projects and organizations. It’s just nice to see a building that houses the arts almost quadruple in size (the River Road Gallery expanded this year, too).
The Art Centre et al are symbolic of the change that can and needs to happen in this community. If you support such change, show it by becoming a member of the Art Centre, shopping at Sunset Arts or the River Road Gallery, buying tickets to the Playhouse, or simply attending one of the many cultural events hosted in this town year-round. You can’t make this place better sitting in your house watching television. And why would you stay home when there’s so much to entertain you just steps away?

Advice from Mom
By Rita Lessard

You really have to pay attention to labels and commercials. Sometimes they don’t make a heck of a lot of sense. I’ve been told, if you can’t pronounce the ingredients, the product more than likely isn’t good for you.
I get a kick out of some of the drug commercials that tell you the produce will solve your health problems, and then they go on to tell you that the side effects of the drug could cause you to have headaches, diarrhea, cramps or nausea, and maybe all of the above. Sure, sign me up for that one!
Here are a few examples of labels that caught my eye:
Label on a box of rat poison – “Warning: may cause cancer in laboratory mice.”
Label on air conditioner – “Avoid dropping air conditioner out of window.”
Label on a cardboard sunshield for a car – “Do not drive with sunshield in place.” Really!
Attached to a portable stroller – “Caution: remove infant before folding for storage.” Oh, please!
I do declare, do these people really think before they put these labels on?
Summer is here at last and so are the bugs, including the pesky mosquitoes. I got bitten several times the other day and I doused myself with vinegar. It’s fast, cheap, and believe me it works. No more itching or stratching. Vinegar also works on a sunburn.
Enjoy the nice weather, stay healthy and happy!

Keeping the Peace
By Tom Lessard

During the years I worked (mostly part-time) as a waiter and bartender at the Club Albatross in Huron Park, there always seemed be someone ready to cause some kind of annoyance.
I recall one night I was working along when two men and a woman came in, sat down and ordered drinks. We became chatty and were having a bit of a time telling jokes, etc. Other patrons began arriving so the three got up to leave. They said, as they were heading out, “We’ll see you later.” I replied, “I hope so.” Little did I know it would be so soon.

The bar quickly filled up to almost overflowing. We had two bartenders, three waiters and two doormen on duty. Business was brisk when all of a sudden, every door in the building was opened and in poured 38 OPP officers.
This was shortly after 9 p.m. They blocked all the doors and had officers inside the washroom. After closing the bar, they began to send people into the dining room to be checked for ID and whatever else they were looking for.
At one table on the dance floor, they found a 14-year old girl with a glass of beer. She was dolled up to look like she was in her 20s. When she entered the building with three other patrons, she immediately went to the women’s washroom while her friends found a table and ordered a pitcher of beer and three glasses. After a short time, the teenager made her way to the table. One of the friends went up to the bar and got another glass. No one served the girl, yet the waitress in her area was charged with serving a minor.
The OPP overlooked a number of minors in the room where I was working. Maybe it was because the three undercover cops who were in earlier gave me a break for being so friendly with them.
People were getting antsy after a while because they couldn’t leave and weren’t able to get a drink. One fellow stood up and gave the Nazi salute and hollered, “Zeig Heil! Zeig Heil!” Well, the cops rushed over and ordered him to sit down and shut up.
Another man (a local company manager) got up and started to leave. Four cops confronted him, telling him he wasn’t allowed to leave and that he had better sit back down. He told them that he had come in to have a drink and if he couldn’t get one here he would go somewhere else where he could drink. They insisted that he would not be allowed to leave until the raid was over. He became so adamant that one of the inspectors came over to find out what the commotion was all about. After assessing the situation, he told the officers to let him go. I don’t think anyone else was allowed to leave.
The sting stunk. They didn’t nail anyone else. Since the bar didn’t reopen that night, we lost a lot of revenue and because we couldn’t sell any drinks, we lost all of our potential tips. All the raid did was create a disgruntled crowd of patrons and animosity toward the OPP. And it must have taken a big chunk out of the police budget: 38 personnel and their vehicles don’t come cheap.

Want $5200 worth of gas from any Esso station? Every Crediton citizen is selling tickets to the gas draw, with proceeds going to the Crediton Community Centre building fund.

The inevitable day has arrived.
I had hoped I would be able to continue to provide the Grand Bend Strip newspaper for free indefinitely, but after thinking long and hard this spring, I realize that the only way for the paper to publish this winter is to ask for your support.
Like you, I value the ability to learn more about the people who live and work in this community. I love meeting you and capturing your memories for the paper. This is what I feel I can bring to this community, and I want to stay here.
I also feel it’s important to bring to light some of the problems that exist here, and the challenges we face in this community. I’m willing to put the work into creating quality journalism here, but I can’t do it alone.
The Strip will continue to be free until the end of the summer, which on most people’s calendar is the Thanksgiving weekend. After that, it will be available only to Strip Club VIP members. Even the website will be restricted to VIPs. I have yet to decide whether the exclusivity will continue next summer.
I promise to make membership worthwhile, and hope you will contribute to surveys to improve the paper, and take advantage of special offers from our advertising clients.
For more information about club membership, please see our subscription page.

To the Editor,
I read with interest your article on the Sexsmith pilots. I was glad to hear that Sexsmith Airfield is, according to Ron Helm, “… nice here; it’s quiet.” Unfortunately, that is something I can’t say for Grand Bend, with planes constantly buzzing overhead all day long. One in particular – perhaps the home made one – has a particularly loud engine.
I too lived through the war in England, and I have to say that the planes constantly circling overhead bring back childhood memories of Spitfires and Messerschmidt’s fighting it out over the top of our house. Could they not find a less developed area to do their flying over, perhaps even the lake? We would be eternally grateful for a little of the peace and quiet found at Sexsmith Airfield.
Heather Crickmere
Grand Bend

Advice from Mom
By Rita Lessard

People say and do the craziest things. Since we had such a cold winter, I said if I ever heard anyone complain about the heat, I would surely slap them. Well, I’ve got my dukes up and I’m ready because – would you believe it – people are complaining already. Usually they say, “I don’t mind the heat so much, but it’s the humidity.” Well, they say it’s hot in hell; I wonder what the humidity is like down there. Hopefully I’ll never find out.
When newfies invite you over for a meal, they say if you come over they’ll put on the pot. I was not familiar with this expression, so when my newfie friend invited me to her house and said she’s put on the pot, I was a little reluctant to accept. I said to her, “Look Jackie, I don’t mind having the occasional drink or two, but as far as the pot goes, I’m not really into that kind of stuff.” Jackie thought that was quite funny, and after a brief explanation and a chuckle, I did go and have a great newfie meal.
Did you know that there’s a law in Nova Scotia that forbids you to water your lawn if it’s raining? Wow, really!
People not only say the darnedest things, but they also do them. My brother Richard is a real sweetheart, and used to travel a lot between Montreal and London by bus or train. Unfortunately he was prone to motion sickness, and on one occasion when he was taking the train, he did get sick. He went to the washroom and threw up his lunch (maybe he shouldn’t have eaten). At the same time, he upchucked his false teeth. Well, he was quite upset, so he finds the train conductor and tells him that they need to stop the train so he can retrieve his teeth. The conductor laughed and said, “Sorry, once your teeth end up on the tracks, there’s no way we can find them.” In the meantime, the man is just howling. Needless to say, Richard was gumming it for a while.
My sister Joan and my brother Tom have always said that I was the naïve one in our family, but I think Richard shares this malady with me. Richard was visiting me one summer and many times my neighbour Gloria and I needed to go shopping; Richard would babysit for us. On the first occasion, Gloria and I went into town and Richard stayed home and entertained the kids. After a few hours, Gloria and I returned and – as we were coming up the street – we could see Richard and the kids on the lawn having a great time. I turn to Gloria and say, “Would you look at those guys having such a great time? I wonder where they got all those white balloons.” Gloria looks and almost faints, and says, “Oh my gosh! Those aren’t balloons; those are my husband’s condoms!” Whoops! He must have bought them by the gross because we sure had a mess of them to clean up. Where’s Casey when you need a photographer? Oh, that was before his time.
Thanks to Casey for taking me to the Huron Country Playhouse to see Sorry… I’m Canadian. What a great, hilarious show. A must see for all, especially if you’re Canadian. We certainly are a funny lot and I would hope we are proud to say we are Canadians.

Keeping the Peace
By Tom Lessard

Even though I spent 18 years in the army, I was never trained as a fighting man. My first two years were spent doing some foot drill, learning how to be a storesman and getting more education. Next, I was posted to London’s 27 C.O.D., where I worked in shipping, loading and unloading trucks.
After a couple of years there, I wanted to go to Germany. The only way I was able to go there was to get a posting to 1RCR in Ipperwash. I grabbed the chance and ended up in the clothing credit department, where I stayed for the next eight years (Rita and I were married in Germany, and our two eldest sons were born there). Since I had been with the battalion so long, I figured I might as well transfer and I became a member of the regiment.
A few years later, in 1970, we shipped out to Cyprus. I was still not a trained infantryman.
One night, at 11 p.m., my buddy and I headed out to do eight hours on an outpost that we had never seen before. The men we were replacing were in a hurry to get back to camp, so they didn’t have time to bring us up to date on what was expected of us or what – if anything – had been going on in the area. A Turkish attachment was 100 yards to our front, and the Greeks were 100 yards to our rear.
About an hour into our tour, my buddy became sick and ended up in a corner of the outpost. He couldn’t move, so he would be unable to ride the bike or walk back to camp by himself. I couldn’t leave the outpost unattended, so I was of very little help to him. I tried to call back to base, but our phone was out and our radio battery was dead. It seems the previous crew was in such a rush to get out that they neglected to tell us about the equipment problems, and forgot to mention it to anyone back in camp. The outpost had no communications, and a sick soldier moaning and groaning.
About 3 a.m., I noticed a lot of movement on the Turk side and none on the Greek side. I didn’t know what to do as I couldn’t contact anyone back at base for assistance and as I mentioned this was my first time at this outpost.
I figured I should even the sides, and walked down to the Greek post and asked for someone who spoke English. A sergeant appeared and I told him that the Turks were moving up more troops. I then went back to my station and watched for any Greek movements. Sure enough, there was a rush of troops, so I went to the Turks and told them to watch for the Greeks moving up.
At 7 a.m., when our relief arrived, I told them about our night and equipment problems and explained that I would make out my report and get them new gear sent out. I loaded my buddy on the bike and pushed him back to camp.
When I reported to the orderly sergeant and told him of my problems, he said they were just beginning; the company commander wanted to see me. The CC wasn’t very happy. He told me that the British and UN headquarters were reporting that the Turks and Greeks were on the alert, getting ready to go at it. I explained what happened and that I wasn’t trained to handle the situation; I said I just wanted to even the sides and that my partner was of no use.
I almost became an item in the history books as the man who started the next Battle of Cyprus; turns out the movement on the Turkish side was just a normal shift change.

View from the Strip
By Casey Lessard

Everyone seems to be concerned about the price of gas these days, and I’m certainly among the crowd. I’m not eager to face the pumps when I have to resume my commute to Toronto every week to teach this fall.
But what do you do? I’ve been trying to figure out ways to reduce my reliance on my vehicle, but in this business it would be impossible to ride a bicycle everywhere. This is one of the curses of living the good life in rural Canada.
They say gas will only get more expensive, and I guess that has always been the case. How expensive does it have to get before you would stop driving, and when does the price of gas impact your life?
My guess is that you are already feeling the effects, especially if you work in Grand Bend, own a farm, commute to London, or simply scrape by on a meager budget. As gas prices escalate, so does the price of everything else. If prices for the things you buy regularly haven’t gone up, they will eventually. Businesses can only shoulder supply and transportation price increases for so long.
With the current crisis, it is time to start thinking of other solutions. During a visit to the Green Living show (yes, we drove to Toronto for it), we could see the exciting prospects of solar power, energy efficient homes, hybrid and electric cars, etc. People want these technologies for the environmental reasons, and they are more attractive when they actually save you money.
Soon enough, these technologies will be more affordable than the fossil fuel technologies we have relied on for so long. I can’t wait for the day, and the environment can’t, either. I only hope enough of us still have jobs when that day arrives.
We would like to hear how gas prices are affecting you.
Drop us a note!

Dear Casey,
I just wanted to let you know how very well received your (wheelchair accessibility) article was, by your readers and by many merchants. I know it can be a gamble when dealing with businesses and I admit it was not always comfortable for me, but it truly has turned out to be such a worthwhile project.  Scott and I have had so many calls, beautiful letters, and well wishing comments that we were overwhelmed; I have never known such heartfelt concern and support. As we discussed, there have been some incredible hurts and frustrations with people who could not handle the changes in our life. Well, this has done so much to restore my faith in human kindness. Some of the businesses immediately made changes as a result of your article and became very proactive in their attitude.
You are a very kind and generous man yourself and this series of articles demonstrates your commitment to bettering life for all citizens. I hope you feel proud and not too humble that you won’t print this. To all the people who approached Scott and me, wrote and sent cards, I thank you so much as it is just this sort of thing that empowers us to advocate for better services for all persons requiring chronic or long term care. We have a long way to go in getting drug coverage, but the financial services firm of Campbell and Lehman have been very kindly working on a trust fund for myself and others in my position to help with costs until one of either the Ontario Ministry of Health or Hoffman-LaRoche steps up to the plate and does the right thing. It is not my wish to be in the public eye for the reasons that I have been, but if this is what it takes to make improvements for myself and others, then so be it. Thanks again.
Sincerely,
Denise Halpenny
Exeter

To the Editor:
I appreciate your recent efforts to grade accessibility in the area. I have arthritis in both knees and use a cane constantly. Entry to buildings, washroom facilities etc. are things I struggle with on a daily basis.
I was surprised to read that Gar’s (Bar) in Exeter got an average rating. I guess it was fair by your scoring system. However, what distressed me was your mention of the cleaning equipment in the handicap washroom. This is because I was at that facility this past February for lunch and when I went to use the handicap washroom there was a bucket and mops and no room for me. I had to use the regular washroom and – because the toilet was abnormally low – I had to grasp under the door to pull myself up; otherwise, I would still be there. Thank goodness the door held and I was again upright.
I asked to speak to the manager who was “not in today.” So I spoke to the person at hand and asked her to accompany me to the handicap washroom to show her why I was upset. She then explained that the equipment was in there because if she stored it downstairs, she would have to carry it up to clean. Because I didn’t agree this was a good reason to block handicap usage, I then demanded some compensation for my troubles. Am I wrong in assuming there is a law about having a handicap washroom available in public areas?
My compensation ended up being a free lunch. But as my friend expressed to the woman why I was so upset, she responded, “She’s not handicapped!!” I guess more education is needed here. You don’t have to be in a wheelchair to be handicapped! So I was happy to see you mention that in your recent editorial. Thank you for doing this.
There are other problems that people are often not aware of. The number of marked parking spaces is never enough and when I mention this at the municipality I am told the code requires one space for every thirty regular spaces. Is there a law that says you can’t include more than the building code stipulates? Duh! I would think the number of handicapped persons is only going to increase this decade.
Another seldom-confronted situation is the installation of handrails on stairs. Some are on the left and some are on the right. Some people have trouble going up, I have trouble going down and need a rail in my left hand. Why not have rails on both sides?
As Lisa Grady mentioned in her article, people want to do it themselves and maintain their dignity and independence. So let’s help them do that!
Thanks for listening Casey. You are doing a good thing. My next topic will probably be the development of a scent-free environment. Do I have any support on that issue?
Wilma Harris
Port Franks

From the editor: Wilma, thanks for your observations. It must be frustrating when a business has the infrastructure in place, but does not make it available to the customers for which it is designed. Our standard required that someone using a wheelchair can get in the door from the street and get around. If a person could use the washroom, reach the counters and sit at a table, those counted, too. I called Gar’s, and the owner is on vacation, but I was told the cleaning equipment still restricts use of the washroom. It’s a shame because this is a simple change (like other changes that could be made there and elsewhere) that could have helped it earn a higher rating. I was told Gar would likely reflect on this upon his return. Ultimately, business owners need to make accessibility a priority because, as you suggest, more people require such services each year.
Regarding the legal question, I do not believe restaurant washrooms are covered under the law yet, so if you would like to complain, your best avenue would be the Ontario Human Rights Commission. They, however, recommend you address your concerns with the business first.
And regarding the scent-free environment question, that’s certainly a good fight to wage.

I was pleased to see your newspaper in my mailbox; very interesting. I live in Parkhill and do a lot of my shopping in Grand Bend and area. I am very disappointed in the law enforcement that they don’t take care of the ongoing problem with wheelchair parking spaces. I find myself being mad most every time I have to park my truck when I see countless people (parking in these spaces) with no problem walking to the store. You people should be glad you can walk; STOP parking in the wheelchair space. I would stand out in the rain all day just to give out tickets to people who take the wheelchair parking spaces.
For the businesses that make excuses about why they don’t have wheelchair spaces or ramps, you should be ashamed of yourselves. It seems to me that everything has to be about the money. Why does it seem that bad things have to happen to someone before they make changes in their life? We want to make changes in our community but we only want to go halfway. The people in wheelchairs have a right to shop anywhere they want, so why are they being left out?
Patti Wilton
Parkhill

How pleasant a surprise it was to see how well Grace Hodgins was doing after her surgery on Friday, June 13. Grace had to get a pacemaker and I was so worried for her, but like the trouper she is, she rallied once again and is expected to be home shortly. Lots of love and encouragement in your quest for better health. Love and good luck. You go girl!
Joan McCullough
Shipka

Alternative View
By Anjhela Michielsen

“Peak oil” is the point when the world will have used half of the oil resources on the planet and the global output of oil will no longer meet demand. Peaking is usually followed by a serious decline, a prospect that worries many researching “peak oil.” Few dispute that oil will hit a peak; the arguments centre on when it will occur. Some say oil’s peak is decades away, but many believe it will happen between 2010 and 2020 (monbiot.com). Today we consume around four times as much oil as we discover.
Peak oil is one of the world’s most serious questions because the consequences are so great. Experts predict that lack of oil will cause a steady rise in prices and frequent oil shocks, leading to increased global instability, and an unstable economy held permanent hostage to terrorists, unstable dictatorships, resource wars and natural disasters. This will start a domino effect of human rights violations in desperate bids by western countries to gain control over remaining oil supplies that fuel their economies.
Isn’t this already happening? Take, for example, the illegal invasion of Iraq in 2003 by the US government with the ultimate agenda of controlling oil reserves in Iraq. The violence has caused devastation to several countries – Afghanistan, Iraq and the US – which will take decades to recover from, and some countries may never recover.
This is only the beginning. Oil corporations already commit massive human rights violations in southern countries through unsafe working conditions, pollution to environment and underpaid labour (and more), and when western countries become desperate for more fossil fuel to maintain their economies and lifestyles, the violence will only increase and the “have-not” countries – as throughout history – will pay the price. The best solution is for us to use our creativity to find solutions and for governments to support initiatives.

Note: just before press-time, the government reaffirmed it would not allow electric vehicles on the roads of most provinces, even though we make them in Canada for an American market. What’s wrong with this picture?