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2 Co ae A mae ~~ : IN ta 5 Zk oe rg: Ne org , LH ix LIC LA BY AN SAL REE ERT Ue oy A FA aL A Er RE EET na Ni SONY \ The Election Monday is municipal election day in the province of Ontario. And all across Ontario this week, community newspapers like this one will be urging their readers to get out and vote on Monday. They'll be talking about lofty ideals such as exercising the vote is not just a privilege and a right in a democracy, but also a duty. They'll be telling their readers that if they don't vote, they have no right to voice an opinion or mount criticism six months or a year down the road. " They'll be saying that voter apathy is a sure sign that people either don't know what is going on, or don't care. i They'll be urging their readers to get out and voté because never before has a community been faced with such pressing Issues that must be addressed by local politicians over the next couple of years. And they'll be saying that a vote in a municipal election is one way in which citizens can take an active part in the decision-making process which effects the community where they live and work. And no doubt, after urging their readers to get out and vote, they'll be telling them also to first find out who they are voting for and why. We agree with all these reasons, of course. They are valid, and have stood the test of time. But we also think you'd be mad as blazes if somebody said you can't vote this Monday. Like the song says, "You don't know what youy've got til-it's gone." The polling stations across Scugog Township open at 11 o'clock Monday morning, November 10, and will stay open til 8 o'clock that evening. If you don't know where you vote, check the voters lists which are posted in public buildings and stores all over the Township. Canada ln Crisis For the past 15 years Canadians have cast wary glances at the province: of Quebec where the forces of separation have been strongest. But the events of the past ten days in this country show us all that the crisis for Canada lies not in the _East, but in the West, and particularly, Alberta where the premier of that province cut back oil shipments to the rest of Canada in retaliation against the budget of the federal Liberal government. The 15 per cent cut-back is going to hurt eastern Canada In the pocketbook because the shortfall will have to be made up by purchases of overseas oil at considerably higher prices. One estimate puts the price at $2 billion extra to buy the overseas oil. In the wake of Peter Lougheed's announcement last week came public opinion polls out of Alberta which show an overwhelming number of citizens there in favour of the move, and more alarming; one poll found 25 per cent of those surveyed to be in favour of Alberta separation. x ; 3 . 5 3 oF NC aut ae EDP RARERS 3 of Ly 7, ., oh e oy HEART ESR ER editorial 0Qe The move by Alberta seems to be ironic and petty in light of the fact that there Is already something like $10 billion petro-dollars in the famous Heritage Fund, and energy analysts expect that Alberta will collect $100 billion from oil and gas revenues over the next decade. Not content with these enormous sums, it seems Alberta is playing the role of some middle-east OPEC sheikdom, holding the consumers up for ransom. Obviously, they meant business a couple of years ago when the saying "let the Eastern bastards freeze in the dark' was making the rounds in Alberta. The events of last week should prove one thing to Canadians. Our crisis is not over language, or identity, or words in the Constitution. It is over money, and precisely who gets the share in the giant energy poker game. When all the jargon, the bickering and the pettiness is stripped away, the bottom line is dollars and cents. Alberta of course is not totally to blame, far from. - it. Eastern Canada has been buying Western energy at below the world prices, and nobody would suggest for a minute that Canadian prices for energy should " \DENTIFIED FLYING OBJECT WITH PERO WARHEAD! bill AUTUMN ANXIETY Do you like autumn? I do. For me, it's the epitome of all that's best in Canada. You can have your spring, 'glorious spring, with its drizzles and its mud and its chilling winds. You can have your summer, with its particular pests - tourists, bugs, visitors. And you can most definitely have winter in its every possible aspect. Just give me about six months of that Septembeér-October weather, and you couldn't drag me out of this country to the island of Bali. I'know that, according to the rhythm of nature, fall is supposed to a time of dying, of melancholy, of shrivelling on the vine, or preparing for the deep, dead sleep of winter. Maybe Canadians are just contrary, but they don't react in the way they're supposed to at all, in the fall. Instead of carefully prepaing for winter, drawing in their horns, and going around with long faces, they bust smiley out all over as soon as that first nip is felt in the morning air. Perhaps they're just fooling them- selves, but Canadians act as though they love the fall. They come to life. They bustle. They form committees, make plans, have parties. They even start going to church. Perhaps it's just a last hysterical fling, a frantic escape from reality, with the grim prospect of six months' winter ahead, but they certainly burn with a clear, gem-like flame while it lasts. Where is the sober householder who should be chinking up the nooks and crannies, putting on the storm windows," getting in his fuel supply, and battening down all the hatches for the bitter voyage that looms ahead? I'll tell you where he is, on his day off. He's standing in ice water up to his nipples, trying to catch a rainbow trout. Or out on the golf course, so bundled with sweaters he can hardly swing. Or he's sitting with a noggin, watching the football game on television. That's where he is. And where's the guide-wife, who should be knitting woolen socks, putting down preserves' and canned meat, airing the flannelette sheets, patching the family's I'll tell you where she is. She's on the phone, talking about what she's going to - wear to the tea. Or she's off in the car to attend a wedding. Or she's out playing bingo. Or she's taking in an auction sale. Or she's sitting around with her feet up, watching the afternoon movie. where she is. 1 It must shake our pioneer ancestors rigid to look down, or up, from their present" abode, and see us preparing for winter. About this time of year, grandfather. was killing a beef, shooting a deer, salting down a hog, making apple cider, stacking vast piles of firewood and hustling his wheat to the mill. : It must rot his celestial socks to look down and see his grandson hunting deer for a holiday, buying his pig pre-cooked at the meat counter, and laying in his fuel supply BY Picking up the phone and calling the oil ealer. - ing about the hardships of our pioneer ancestors and get back to sweating over our own neurotic chaos. 3 3 < 9% not be brought closer tothe world price. ~~ ; And there may be some consolation in the fac that the cut-back is not immediate, but will come In three steps over the next nine months. It is quite ® possible that Lougheed chose this method to leave the door open for future negotiations. For the sake of this country's future, we should all hope so. But relations between the West and the East have dipped to such a low point now that one wonders If negotiations can do anything to repair the damage and get rid of the mutual feelings of distrust. % What is ironic about all this is that for the first 50 years of Alberta being part of the Canadian federa- tion, that province was partial recipient of the billions of dollars that Ontario transferred to the poorer provinces, dollars which came in part from the natural resources of Ontario. Now the shoe is on " the other foot. It was not a happy week for Canada, and surely the rest of the world must be looking at our internal bickering and wonder just how such a thing could happen in the land of plenty. No doubt a lot of confused Canadians are wondering the same thing. B 3 - . And what about Granny? In her day, fall was the time when you worked like a beaver, making sausages, spinning wool, putting eggs away in waterglass, filling the root cellar, making candles and soap. She must do a little quiet cussing, in the & shadow of her halo, when she sees her granddaughter facing up to the rigors of - ~ winter: racked by the dreadful decision of whether to buy a home freezer or a fur coat; torn by the dilemma of whether to have the cleaning woman come once or twice a week. But, of course, that's looking at only one € side of the situation. Granddaddy didn't have to worry - about anti-freeze, atom That's bombs, income tax or payments on the car. He didn't need suppositories, diets and a new tail-pipe every time he turned around. And Granny didn't have to cope with a kitchen full of machinery, kids who were < smarter than she was, and the late movie. * She didn't need sleeping pills, cigarettes, or psychology. E 'Say, come to think of it those were the good old days. They didn't have much, but what they had was their own, not finance company's. No auto accidents, no alcoholics anonymous, no aspirins. Let's stop worry- -