The following text may have been generated by Optical Character Recognition, with varying degrees of accuracy. Reader beware!

©) Sd fo NG I I BE CR SW rT Ped RT se et A og sein Ma i EE o NE ny) ARE = SEN a J BA pe DE ; BECHER SP LAR IO 03 a Ts BRETRAEE ST Loh, > a6 en No Dogs Please A lot has been said and written this summer about the success of the Kinsmen sand beach on the waterfront in downtown Port Perry. We agree completely with those who say the beach Is a welcome addition to the recreation facilities in this community and is getting use by both visitors and residents alike. While the beach may be a fine place for young children (and adults) to spend a hot summer afternoon, some owners of dogs seem to think it is also a fine place to let man's best friend do his thing. While we would suspect that most dog owners are responsible enough to know that allowing Fido to relieve himself on a public beach presents something of a nuisance, not to mention a potential health hazard. However, as with everything, there are few people who seem to think that their pets have a free rein. Earlier this summer, there was a 'no dogs allowed' sign posted on a large tree at the beach, but it seems to have disappeared. Although a sign posted in a very conspicous spot may not deter all dog owners, there should nonethe- less be one put up by either the Kinsmen Club or the Township recreation department. Then, a dog owner who lets Fido do his thing in the sand would have no excuse except sheer ignorance. It is a pity that people don't have a little more respect for others. There is nothing more disgusting than a dog on a public beach where little children are running around barefoot and playing in the sand. There is one sign at the beach which says keep the picnic tables off the beach and it seems to be having the desired effect. Surely, another sign could be put up. After all, picnic tables on the beach are a little less of a hazard than dogs on the loose. The Port Perry public waterfront was the scene of a lot of activity over the long weekend, and by Monday evening it looked like an army had marched through. There was a lot of garbage everywhere, partly because a few people just throw it where they please, but mostly because there are not enough garbage cans in the park. While those responsible for cleaning up on Tuesday morning do a good job, maybe the Township could invest in a couple more garbage cans for Palmer Park, an area that seems to be getting more and more popular every weekend. A Bad Tax The province of Newfoundland has set up a taxation scheme which will have detrimental effects on consumers in that province and an important sector of the business community. "editorial poge Lard Fuddie fa Deddie -f X kan TL RA SN PIE Newfoundland has slapped a four per cent tax on all media advertising. It is the only province In this country to have such a tax, although Quebec has a two per cent tax on broadcast advertising. We can only hope that the other provinces and especially Ontario decide not to follow Newfound- land's lead in this area of taxation. The cost of advertising is passed on eventually to the consumer and it is safe to assume that most of the four per cent charge by the government in New- foundland will eventually show up. in the price of consumer products. The second danger is that some advertisers may decide that rather than pass on the increased costs, they will cut back on their advertising. That could hurt many small radio stations and newspapers which operate on tight budgets and at the same time perform a valuable service to their communities. While we recognize that all levels of government are experiencing a dollar pinch these days and are constantly looking for ways to increase revenues or reduce spending, this kind of tax is not the answer. For obvious reasons, we hope that Ontario decides not to jump on the bandwagon. Letters Policy As a community newspaper, the Port Perry Star welcomes letters to the editor from our readers on any issue or subject. Our policy concerning letters is that the writer's name and address must be included with the letter. We will publish an unsigned letter provided we know the identity of the writer. However, we would strongly urge that all letter writers allow their names to be printed along with their letters. Printing one's name gives weight and credibility to the letter and the arguments being made. While we urge our readers to express their opin- ions in the public forum of our letters to the editor column, we must at the same time reserve the right to edit letters with regards to good taste and liability. Letters to the editor should be typed (if possible), double spaced, or neatly hand-written in ink. bill THE WRITING'S ON THE WALL It's a little like being an observer of the Fall of the Roman Empire. That's how I feel as I read and hear the latest energy crisis news. One of these days, in the not-distant future, the last drop of that black stuff is going to drip into the last receptacle. How then, brown hen? Will we freeze in the dark? Well, a heck of a lot of red-blooded Canadians will need every bit of that red blood to avoid doing so. It's not as though the hand-writing has not been on the wall. It's just that nobody has been looking at that particular wall. We've all been looking out our picture window, in- stead. I've been thinking about it during a par- ticularly busy week in which a dentist saved one of my ancient teeth, a doctor gave me an allergy shot, and a barber removed some of may ancient white hair. Needless to say, I drove my ancient car to each of these places. None of them is more than a ten-minute walk. On my way to one of them, I drove down to the dock, parked, and smiley watched about three thousand boats trying to wiggle their way out of marinas, so that they could open her up and cut a swatch across the lake with their oil-burners. At the doctor's, people were complaining because the air-conditioning wasn't working. The dentist used a high-speed elec- tric drill in his air-conditioned office, with all the fluorescent lights on. The barber was sweating, turned up his air-conditioning, washed his hands in hot water, and switched on his electric clippers. By George, I thought, it's going to be quite a change. I visualized the dentist pumping away with his old foot powered drill. The "doctor giving me a shot by candlelight, because there are no windows in the joint. The barber using the old hand powered clip- pers and shaving my neck with cold water, in a steamy-hot barber shop. It wouldn't bother me too much. I was brought up on weed stoves, coal-oil lamps, a block of ice in the refrigerator, and a coal- burning furnace. But it sure would bother the doctor, the dentist and the barber, along with prac- tically every human being in North America under the age of sixty. It's going to be quite an auction sale, I thought, when that last drop of black stuff flows from the last spigot. Listen to the auctioneer. "Lincoln Con- tinental, 1982 model, like new. Tear out the insides and you have a grand out-door rec room for the kiddies. What am I bid? Do I hear thirty dollars. "Here's a real steal. A forty-foot crusier with built-in cupboards, septic toilet, sleeps six. Get a teamster to tow it into your back yard and you have a dandy sleeping cabin for guests. Will somebody start the bidding with twelve dollars? "And here's another beauty. Three 1980 Thunderbirds, worth $23,000 the day they were bought. Cut the tops off, remove the wheels and they'll make beautiful flower beds. Not ten dollars apiece, not even nine dollars each, but the three for $24.98. "And here's today's super-special. She's only thirty-five years old and guaranteed to work day and night, not like those electric things that were always breaking down. An almost automatic dishwasher. Yes, ladies and gemmunm, the real thing. This little lady came on hard times. Her husband had a heating oil franchise. She's willing to wash your dishes like they've never been washed before. Only $300 a week." And so on. Snowmobiles, aircraft, It's going to be a great day for the junk dealers. On the other hand, there's the bright side. Just as people today pay fabulous sums for junk furniture dug out of attics, the good folk of 2010 A.D. might go as high as $200 for an ancient, beautifully-finished Cadillac or a fine specimen of four burner electric stove with infra-red oven. They'd make nice con- versation pieces. Away back there, I failed to continue the analogy to the Roman Empire. But it's there. They had their bread and circuses as the countdown approached. Our arenas, like theirs, are packed solid with sweaty, sadistic spectators watching the gladiators. We don't have enough Christians left to throw to the lions. But we can always fire the coach, which is almost as good. And we have something Romans didn't. We have an almost-instant view of disasters all over the world. So I guess mankind has made one giant step backward in the past 1500 years. It looks as though the hand-in-hand waltz of the oil companies and the car manufac- turers, which has lasted nearly half a cen- tury, is going to become, "Good Night, Ladies." But the merry Walpurgisnacht of the western world continues its mad whirl as oil companies and airlines and car manufac- turers and boat makers furiously advertise their wares. And the rest of us just as wildly rush out to buy them. Of course, I don't mean a word of this. Somehow, the human spirit, though at one of its lowest points in centuries, will survive and prevail. We'll find something. But in the meantime, I'm going to sharpen my axe and get busy installing a windmill. See you in the bush lot. * * ® i | ! i §