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4 -- PORT PERRY STAR -- Tuesday, June 14 1988 Editorial Comments "ON STRIKE Like a lot of people in Scugog Township, we were taken a bit by surprise on the afternoon of June 7 when a picket line went up in front of the municipal office on Per- ry Street. Legal strikes are not a common occurence in Port Perry, and while there was ample warning that this strike was coming by the 11 municipal office employees, we thought that some last-minute negotiations with a media- tor might avert it. But that didn't happen. The strike is on, and now into its second week. And frankly, it is still not easy to adjust to the sight of a picket line in front of the municipal office. It is not our intent with this editorial to "take sides" and point a finger of blame at one side or another. That would serve no useful purpose. Both sides, the employees on the one hand, and the Township council on the other; have been very frank in publicly stating what the issue is, and what they have offered, and what they want. What they haven't done is state publicly just what it will take to settle this dispute and get the employees back on the job. The employees are asking for a $4,000 wage in- crease across the board. The Township council offered $2,000, plus a $200 lump sum that was not to be includ- ed in the employees base salary. - Thus, it is not overly difficult to calculate where the "common ground" is, the area for compromise around which most labour disputes are eventually settled. And compromise, or flexibility is the key word, for both sides. : Both sides have proved their respective points. The council by not giving in to the total demands, and the em- ployees by taking the strike action to show that they mean business in their quest for higher wages. Now that these points have been taken and a week or so has passed, it is time to get back to the table and reach an agreement. We suggest that a settlement is reachable, with a little compromise and flexibility on both sides. Without it, this strike could turn into a long one, and that is something nobody in Scugog Township wants to see. DECENT ADVICE It was just slightly ironic that on the day the Ontario Health Ministry announced that some $21 million would be spent to improve access to heart treatment centres, a group of health scientists and physicians were w ing up a conference in Toronto with the suggestion™that if more money were spent preventing disease, less would be spent trying to cure it. The cost of treating illness in Canada is a whopping $40 billion. The conference, which dealt with exercise, fit- ness and health, foun wan concluded that if even a tiny fraction of the amount went into preventative meas- S (Turn to page 8) = [IOgPITAL El Port Perry STAR 235 QUEEN STREET - PORT PERRY, ONTARIO Phone 985-7383 P.0.Box90 LOB 1NO J. PETER HVIDSTEN ! Publisher Advertising Manager (+ CNA Member of the Canadian Community Newspaper Association and Ontario Community Newspaper Association. Published every Tuesday by the Port Perry Star Co. Ltd., Port Perry, Ontario. I J.B. McCLELLAND Editor Authorized as second class mail by the: Post Office Department, Ottawa, and for cash CATHY OLLIFFE payment of postage in cash. News & Features Second Class Mail Registration Number 0265 OV\AN Com SE E Vey, (Qi) o% \ am RTI Subscription Rate: In Canada $20.00 per year. Elsewhere $60.00 per year. Single Copy 50¢ © COPYRIGHT -- All layout and composition of advertisements produced by the adver- tising department of the Port Perry Star Company Limited are protected under copyright and may not be reproduced without the written permission of the publisher. Chatterbox by Cathy Olliffe MISS PIGGY The guys at the lumberyard all had a good chuckle at Doug's expense when my kind- hearted husband rescued a baby Starling. The featherless bird was roaming around one of the attics at Lake Scugog Lumber when Doug found her and brought her home in a-cardboard box. At first, we didn't know she was a Starling. Doug was kind of hoping she'd be something exotic, like a robin, or a barn swallow, but the guys at work laughingly assured him the bird was nothing but a common Starling. "They're pests, they're bad news, they drive other birds away," were just a few of the pearls of wisdom handed our way. Not that we really cared about any of their unwanted advice. Fact is, we were getting kind of attached to the little bird. It only took a few seconds for the bird to fig- ure out how to eat Pablum from an eyedrop- per, and began begging incessantly for more food in a rough "caw" voice. Food was its main preoccupation, and we were feeding this bird more than some ba- bies. About every 25 minutes we'd be mixing up a fresh batch of Pablum and vitamins, and administering the loathsome mixture to the waiting mouth. Because of this voracious appetite, the bird soon acquired a name, Piggy. After a few days of solid eating, Piggy turned her keen intelligence to other pursuits, and it was no time at all before she learned how to drink water from a dish, how to sit up on her perch, and how to jump from her cage into her food dish at a single bound. | soon learned two things: how to clean the delicate feet of a small bird, and how to keep the food dish out of Piggy's reach. 'Not that it was me who fed and looked after Piggy all the time--Doug did more than his fair share. So much so, that Piggy began to think of my husband as "mom." All he'd have to do is walk by the cage, and she'd start the most amazing ruckus, flapping her wings, jumping up and down, and squaw- king like an entire flock of birds. She'd never react that way to my presence. So it was Doug who taught her to sit on his shoulder, on his finger, and on his head (until one day when Piggy had a dump up there and was quickly removed). And it was Doug who taught the little bird to fly. Eventually, she became so tame she'd fol- low human feet anywhere, and was constantly in the way when we tried to work around the ouse. As day after day passed, we became more attached to Piggy, and actually began to look forward to her raucous squawking every morn- ing at sunrise. At first, we hadn't wanted to get too at- tached to the little bird. After all, she wasn't very big, and everybody knows how slim the chances are of raising a wild baby bird. But she seemed to thrive under our care, growing like a proverbial weed, getting strong- er every single day. After nearly two weeks had passed, we were firmly attached to Piggy, despite our earlier misgivings. Thursday morning should have been like every other morning--Piggy making a big rack- et, Doug getting up and sleepily making Pa- blum. But what woke him up this particular morning wasn't noise, it was absolute quiet. There was no squawking, no chirping. He didn't even have to get out of bed to know something was wrong. But Doug did get up, went to her cage, and saw her sprawled on the bottom. Without even waking me up, he buried her under the flowers in our backyard. We don't know what killed Piggy. She'd been doing so well and we were supremely confident that she'd be around for a long time. We spent many hours debating if we should try and keep her as a pet or set her free. Looking back, | guess it's kind of wrong to even think about keeping a wild thing as a pet. But sometimes it's easy to do the wrong Hing when you care about something so much. Anyways, things haven't been the same around home since Piggy died. Even though Doug used to curse her when she jumped up on the handle of the hack saw while he was trying to mitre some trim, he misses her now. It was a preity funny sight--him moving the saw back and forth, her perched on the handle, squawking saucily the whole time. For a Starling, she was pretty okay.