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4 THE NEW TANNER THURSDAY, JUNE 28, 2007 EDITORIAL Distributed to every home in Acton and area as well as adjoining communities. 373 Queen Street East, Unit 1 Acton, Ontario L7J 2N2 email: thenewtanner@on.aibn.com Frances Niblock Mike OLeary Angela Tyler Rebecca Ring Publisher Editorial Ted Tyler Hartley Coles Editorial Contributors Advertising and Circulation Composing Marie Shadbolt Bruce Cargill Danielle McIsaac By Angela Tyler with Hartley Coles (519) 853-0051 Fax: (519) 853-0052 Every effort will be made to see advertising copy, neatly presented, is correctly printed. The publisher assumes no financial responsibility for typographical errors or omissions in advertising, but will gladly reprint without charge that part of an advertisement in which an error may occur provided a claim is made within five days of publication. All articles, advertisements and graphic artwork appearing in The New Tanner is copyrighted. Any usage, reproduction or publication of these items, in whole or in part, without the express written consent of the publisher of The New Tanner is a copyright infringement and subject to legal action. When summertime arrives, there are some things you can count on. First, there are a lot of people who grumble about the heat. Those are usually the same people who, when it is winter time, grump about the cold. The other thing that happens is people start dressing a little more scantily for the warmer temperatures. Its inevitable of course. However, its starting to get a little extreme, especially for young ladies. At first, I thought it was just a handful of teenaged girls. I was wrong. There was a group of girls run- ning out in front of traffic at the Tanner office, as the kids do on a daily basis at lunch time. And as I drove by, my neck almost snapped as I turned in shock when I noticed how short about a half a dozen girls skirts were. I know when I was younger, I too wore mini skirts. But there was so little material on these skirts that they really couldnt be classified as a skirt, more perhaps a scarf that they tied around their hip area. It doesnt seem to matter if the young lady is a tween or a teenager, or if they are skinny or chubby, the skirts this season are way really short. I honestly dont even know how they can sit down without showing even more skin. At the beginning of the week, I was in the line-up at Tim Hor- tons. In front of me were two high school girls, both wearing the micro-mini skirts. One had a somewhat suitable top, yet the other one - well, lets just say I was in shock once again. It was more than her micro-mini or her black tube top that exposed almost in full her apple-red bra. It was the conversation the two were having. The girls to me looked maybe about 15 or 16 years old. The red bra girl was talking about how wonderful babies and children were and how she couldnt wait to have one. Their language was far from appropri- ate for impending motherhood, laced with lots of swearing and friggins being used as adjectives and adverbs. Sometimes, the line-up at Tim Hortons just doesnt go fast enough and this was one of those times. The girl continued to talk about how kids are great and so cute, except when they are around the five-year-old age, which is when she would leave her up- coming offspring with its father. Yeah, my kid is going to be re- tarded, she stated, adding, That way I can love it more. I didnt know if she was joking around or if she was serious. I keep hearing young girls say things that dont make any sense to me. For example, about a month ago, I heard a different couple of girls talking about how many days there are in a year. They were laughing about a friend who thought there were 367 days in the year. The one girl, laughing, stated quite adamantly that he was wrong and there were 360 days in a year. I wanted to tell her that she too was wrong, but I knew it wouldnt be welcome. I think its time we women work on young girls ways of thinking now. We need to lengthen the skirts - even an inch would help - and start thinking before we speak out loud in public. School days, school days Good old golden rule days. Some of us who are maybe long in the tooth can recall the last day of school at the old red brick Acton Public School on Education Lane. The school with its quaint tower and accompanying bell seemed like a virtual prison for 10 months. When the last day before the summer holidays arrived, the air of expectancy was even shared by the teachers. They had managed to keep us at our desks from 9 a.m. each morning until four in the afternoon, with an hour and a half for dinner. Maybe the kids nowadays feel the same sense of freedom we experi- enced when that last day arrived. A giant whisper usually went around the school that the local school board had agreed to let us go at 2 p.m. instead of the usual 4 p.m. It was generally just that - a rumour. Since most pupils and the teachers shared a feeling of being on the threshold of two glorious months of freedom and frivolity, it was dif- ficult for anyone not to smile and get a bit giddy. The teachers organized such exercises as spelling bees to keep everyone in line before the doors were opened and hundreds of children (there were no kids in those days) burst out in a tremendous shout. Some daring enough to recite that old jingle: No more pencils, no more books, No more teachers dirty looks. The enthusiasm for the holidays was particularly felt by those who believed they had passed. Before we wax nostalgically about those good old days, remember it was customary for those who failed their exams to spend another year in the same grade, if there was the room. No passing into the next grade. Failure meant just that and it wasnt only classmates who would know because exam results were published in the Acton Free Press. The whole town knew who had the big F next to their name as well as everyones marks. Some, it should be noted, were just above that F line. Marks were not necessarily the measure of the student. Some who experienced that F next to their names pulled up their school socks at the urging of parents and teachers and went in to be- come teachers, of all things. Later in life, some went on to business and commercial fame. And of course, some at the head of the class led a humdrum existence when they passed out into the world. This week all across this country the kids will be let loose again for two months and few will wear the F horse collar. Lets hope they enjoy the experience of being young and carefree for the summer months because as everyone knows it wont be long before the summons to return to classes returns and its back to routine. Happy Holidays kids! And teachers, too. Strawberry Fields A campaign to persuade people to buy more local produce when available instead of fruit and vegetables from distant lands, has been highlighted by the introduction of local strawberries to the marketplace. Theres no comparison. Local strawberries are better by far, sweeter and riper than the imported berries. In addition, they dont require thousands if kilometres of travel to arrive in stores. This week a friend and colleague gave this scribbler local berries just picked. Unlike the imported brands they needed no garnishments. They were delicious right off the plant, unlike imported berries which are picked green and ripen on their way to market. So the message is- buy local if you can. Happy holidays CANADIAN CUTIE: Five-month-old Makayla Grace Potter wishes everyone a Happy Canada Day. - Submitted photo How many days in a year? Happy Canada Day from the Publisher and Staff