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The idea is to have youngsters bring their bears or other stuffed animals to the hospital as if they were ill and hospital staff will deal with their ‘injuries‘ or comâ€" plaints. It‘s a great idea and who knows, it may attract a few future doctors or nursâ€" es. Oakville has a growing population that will continue to escalate well past the year 2000 and that means the library system will come under further pressure to expand services and facilities. Unfortunately the province makes no financial allowances for ‘special cases‘ when it allocates library grants. It make for nice and easy bookkeeping for the Queen‘s Park number crunchers if they merely plug in the same numbers as a year ago. Not fair but neat. But the town‘s chief librarian isn‘t complaining...at least publicly. Eleanor James said this week that the money, which is calculated at $7.52 per Oakville household, will allow it to maintain existing programs but it places a heavy burden on her staff to wring as much as they can out of every dollar. Far from being stuffy places, our town libraries are bright facilities that offer countless amenities to Oakville residents. Aside from the traditional function of providing books and periodicals, the libraries offer a wide variety of other funcâ€" tions such as Information Oakville, computer access, video tapes, CD‘s and more. But highâ€"tech libraries are expensive. While many groups lament funding cuts, at least the province has chosen to invest in giving the general public access to a decent library system and in the curâ€" rent government economic environment, that‘s good news. _ is setting up a special ‘Teddy Bear‘ hospital from Tues. Aug. 30th through Thursday Sept. 1st from 10:00 a.m.â€"2:00 p.m. and 6:00 p.m.â€"8:00 p.m. at the Centre Court of Oakville Place. The mushy Ontario economy during these times of economic uncertainty has taken a real beating. The province‘s population continues to mushroom, particularâ€" ly in the greater Toronto region, social services are being stretched to the limit, the medical infrastructure is undergoing gutâ€"wrenching reorganization and ‘soft‘ serâ€" vices are seeing their funding slashed. applauded. uring the glory days of Ontario government politics, there was always money around to throw at new projects. Whether it was hospitals, roads or waterworks, there was always cash. But that was before the sobering recession of the early 1980s and the deeper, more prolonged economic downturn of this decade. It was, therefore, refreshing to see the province make a positive decision in at least keeping financial support for the library system at last year‘s level. P i ie Ac _A t i 7 hed in the Oal Beaver is protected by c hi. An Tim Coles Production Manager reproduction in whole or in part of this material is strictly 1% f consent of the publisher. Advertising is on the condition that, in the event of a typographical error, that portion of the advertising e occupied by the enonoo\:gtem m@p::f with a reasonable allowance for signature, will not be charged for, but the balance of the adver;g:fcnem wirbe p:!d for at the applicable rate. The publisher reserves the right to calegorize and reject advertising. In the event of typographical error, advertising goods or services at the wrong price, goods or services may not be sold. Advertising is merely an oflgf lgsefl mq may b{",‘?hd@"'? at any time. Classified Advertising: 845â€"2809 Circulation: 845â€"9742 or 845-9743 i Tan Oliver Publisher Robert Glasbey Advertising Director Norman Alexander Edifor Geoff Hill Circulation Director Teri Casas Office Manager Tim Coles Production Manager The Oakville Beaver, publ Wednesdlszs Friday, at 467 rs Rd., Oakville, |s one ol lhe Metm rinti hing Distributing‘ Ltd. group of sul;wban newspapers which includes: A;ax-Plckerinq News, , Barrie Advance, Brampton Guardnn Burtington Post, Colli Connection, Etobicoke Guardian, nt/ Acton Free Kingslon This Week, Lindsay ‘This am Economist and Sun Tribune, Miton Canadmn c m, Mississauga News,: Newrmrkot Aurora Eraâ€"Banner, North York Mirror, Oakville Beaver, Orillia® Today, Oshawa/Whitby This Week, Peielborough This Week, Richmond HiV 3“"‘"”‘"7 h:i"sr';ed ‘the Oakville Be protected by materia in il aver is c An reprod n ormpanoflhnsmomhsslncflyl Mw'flm s Editorial trip to hospital can be a harrowing experience for adults. But it‘s even more daunting for youngsters. That‘s why an initiative by Oakville Trafalgar Memorial Hospital, to take the mystery out of a hospital visit, is to be Some good news 467 Speers Road Oakville, Ont. L6K 3S4 Say ‘ahh‘ And who am I to buck a zilâ€" lion years of tradition? Who am I to defy the Laws of Man (specifically, the Treatise of Testosterone)? I‘m nobody, that‘s who. Consequently, I try to explain to friends, family, neighbors, and people I‘ve never seen before, who look at me queerly, staring at the pheâ€" nomenal foliage that now covâ€" ers my fabulous face, like mold on old cheese, that I had no choice. I went to the cottage. I‘m a man. And zillionâ€"yearâ€"old tradition and the Laws of Man (specifically, the Treatise of Testosterone) dictate that when a man (a real man‘s man) bids farewell to his word processor and navigates north with his family for a true cottage experiâ€" ence, he is obliged to leave his razor behind and grow on his mug something that at the very least resembles a beard, in a funny, fuzzy sort of way. Which bring me to the secâ€" tion of this column known as "The Growth of the Growth." It‘s also the manly thing to do â€" like huntin‘ and fishin‘ and scratchin‘ and belchin‘ and endâ€" lessly moanin‘ about the batty baseball strike and, of course, goin‘ out with the boys for a manicure/pedicure, followed by brunch at a trendy downtown bistro... t‘s an annual cottage rite â€" like skipping stones f halfway across Lake Huron, building sandâ€"castle cities and campfires on the beach, like taking long, woodâ€" land walks, and losing a pintâ€" andâ€"aâ€"half of beery blood to monster mosquitoes. Vacation to Lake Huron brings out manly instincts On the fourth day of our holâ€" iday, my fourth day spent apart from my razor, I gave my wife a little treat â€" I gave her what she had surely been aching for; Sure, that‘s what she said, but I could tell by the trembling tone of her voice, and the look of utter awe in her eyes, that she was really admiring those bearded beginnings, that she was, indeed, dying to dance her fingers across my fertile face. "You‘re looking abnormally hairy," she said. "Forget your razor at home?" she asked, assessing the delightful darkâ€" ness on my face, her heart doubtlessly aflutter at the prospect of sharing quarters with this manly stubble. "Yup," I lied. "I forgot my razor at home." "Better go into Goderich and get a new one," she said. "Your face is frightening the chilâ€" dren." After a couple of days of cottage living, a couple of days getting back to nature (of not bathing or showering or even tinkering with soap!), and absoâ€" lutely enjoying the ozone out of the great outdoors, a dark shadâ€" ow â€" granted, the sort of shadâ€" ow some men get about an hour after shaving â€" began to inch across my upper lip, creep across my jawline. I don‘t need to tell you, dear readers, how incredibly rugged this shadow looked. I‘ll let my wife tell you. P43 Truth be known: The Mother of All Beards probably won‘t last. Unless the unbearable itch that accompanies such great growth ceases. Unless I can convince my wife that kissing a porcupine really isn‘t that bad. Now at home â€" no longer able to blame this hairy mess on the cottage â€" I need new explaâ€" nations to offer people who wonder aloud what ever became of my poor razor. "I‘ m a big fan of Grizzly Adams," I say. Or, "I‘m doing McCartney in the Beatles‘ Let It Be phase." or, "I‘m trying to make my face look like ‘Robin Williams‘ back..." It was then that I defiantly made up my mind: it ain‘t going to go. So, following one full, fat week of holiday heaven, we came home, facial foliage and all. "Ouch!" she screeched, rubâ€" bing her cheek. "It‘s like being kissed by a porcupine. Go buy a razor." Sure, that‘s what she said, but I could tell by the trembling tone of her voice, and the look of utter awe in her eyes, that she was hoping this remarkable growth would become a permanent fixture on my face. On the sixth day of our holiâ€" day, my parents came for a visit. My father, who gave up subtlety (which was never his strong suit) for his seventieth birthday, confirmed my suspiâ€" cions that my beard was growâ€" ing great when he asked, "What‘s that mess on your face?" Then wondered, "When is it going to go a passionate peck on the cheek B Aoti/‘nw 99