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"A Family Tradition for 132 Years" PORT PERRY STAR - Tuesday, September 14, 1999 - 7 LETTERS To the Editor: 1 finally must write to explain my disappointment in what has been hap- pening to your beautiful town. As | '|drove through this morning, I despaired at the trend from a quaint, unique place to what appears to be a commercially motivated landscape. There is now one small strip along Water Street, including your park and ball diamonds that affords a vista of the lovely waterfront and view across the bay. A few years ago, when the first signs appeared announcing a new plaza along Highway 7A on the east end, I envisioned a plan that allowed for the continuation of interesting shops, some perhaps exhibiting the works of local artists and artisans, with walkways meandering along the waterfront, where shoppers could stop to enjoy the surroundings. I was absolutely shocked to see that a monolithic store like Reid's Grocery had been allowed to block the view and prohibit access to the water's edge behind their building, accompa- nied by acres (so it seems) of asphalted parking lot, now joined by Tim Hortons. "What a missed opportunity," I thought then. Who are the planners? Who allowed this to happen? Then the last straw has been the new senior's complex along Simcoe Street. I was misguided when the first buildings began to appear, into think- ing, if they had to build here, at least there was a lake vista to be seen between buildings. But this morning - a solid wall of buildings confronted me, blocking every vestige of water along the expanse. I despair. And I only visit here. How saddened you who live here must feel. I return often to my hometown, Thunder Bay, where they have striven to reclaim the waterfront from dere- licts, garbage and decrepit buildings. It is now a peaceful refuge for the soul. There are art galleries, walking paths, green spaces, quiet vistas across Port Perry losing the charm that made it a special place the bay, and places for silent reflection, all used by the residents and many visitors on a daily basis. Someone there not only had vision, but the foresight to realize that a town prospers not only by the com- mercial monies poured into it, but also by the aesthetic quality of the surroundings. Port Perry has lost its appeal as a unique lakeshore community. I guess we all play a part in our contribution or complicity in what becomes of our environment. Shame on us. Sylvi Parker, Orono New Canadians must adapt as we did From page 6 was done was done wrong, and that we should do it the way they did in their old country. Was that such a good way? Is that why they came over to this country? It sounds like those people bite the hand that feeds them. I was quite happy to come here from Europe and took the country as it was, and have never regretted it. Most of the old immigrants are thankful for being able to come here and build a good life which maybe was not possible in their old countries. Sure, we had to take the jobs as they came, but we could work ourselves up into the jobs we wanted. But it took time, we weren't expecting that the government of Canada ask us what kind of job we wanted or keep us. I hate to read in the papers about people that are well educated in their old country and now come here and expect to have the same job as before and start crying and complaining about it because he feels he/she is better than the rest. I know a doctor, and an engineer from some- where else has to go through a certain training again etc. We older immigrants had to go the same way, and most of them made it. And would it not have been the same way for a Canadian doctor or engineer who came in their old country or anywhere in Europe or Asia? You have to learn the Canadian laws, etc. But that is the change you make by immigrating to another country. You can not see it as just moving to another place, you move to another country with their rules and regulations and aws. Respect your new country's laws and you will come out on the top. We came from Europe, and were allowed to stay -- yes allowed, it was not our right -- as so many new people seem to think, what we wanted to make of ourselves that was, and still is, up to ourselves. Without any complaints. Work or study, and I am sure with some willpower you can still make it the way you want and live under unre- vised laws of Canada which have worked so well for so many years. Henri Smits port.perry.star @ sympatico.ca postmaster for 45 years, and his tamily and pet dog on the Perry Street across from the intersection of Shanley St. in ated in centre is Mr. Burnham's daughter Alice Dagmar. The Photo courtesy by Jeff Mitchell THE TRUTH CAN REALLY STINK You know for sure that you've been living in the country for a long time when you awake at 4 a.m. choking, with the dog going crazy by the side of your bed and your spouse thrashing as if in the throes of a most hideous death and realize, ah, it's ° just the skunk, and cover your head with a pillow and drift off back to sleep. Skunks being nocturnal, that's when mine shows up, including my back yard in his regular rounds and pausing under my bedroom window to do God only knows what. For a good long time, too. Skunks being skunks, they never rush. Ever see a skunk run? There you go. And stink! Well, let's just say this particular specimen packs a wallop. The first night he showed up -- it's coming on fall now, and they're more active, if what I've been observing is an indi- cation -- | awoke gasping, convinced the little bugger was right under my bed. But no. He was merely lumbering about in the yard, leaving his essence in a stinking wake wherever he went. | suppose | could have hissed through the screen at him to move him along -- a method that typically works with cats in the throes of passion, conflict, or whatever -- and was about to, when | realized, despite the hour: This is a skunk. Do not antagonize him. He will surely emerge victorious. Another thing I've learned is that, when the dog wakes me up in the middle of the night, unless he's doing the wee-wee dance (you canine lovers all know what | mean), he's not goin' out that door. Last autumn | arose and sleepily let my pal out into the night, whereupon the dolt dashed off and stuck his nose into the business end of a skunk. Oh, my, was it awful. Otto scratched at the door where | stood, awaiting the com- pletion of his business (which is usually quite direct, the dog being old and more inclined to lying by the fire, farting and snuf- fling, than gallivanting in the night air), and, when | opened it a crack he dashed through, pushing me out of the way and making a bee-line for the living room. Only after I'd returned to bed did the stench drift in to me. The horrible truth crept over me like a sickly dawn arriving in a land of woe. Well, the dog's about 150 pounds, and that's a lot of dog, so when my wife drove up the next day with an entire case of tomato juice, she had the neighbours speculating that she'd either found a really, really terrific sale, or was going to spend the afternoon drinking Bloody Marys until she went blind. The good news is that, eventually, tomato juice does work. It takes a lot of pouring and rubbing on an uncooperative, heaving, stinking beast, but it pays off. The dog, of course, learned nothing as a result of his brush with the skunk. He still really wants to catch one. | do not know why. Same reason he keeps drinking out of the toilet, | guess, some habits are just hard to break.