The following text may have been generated by Optical Character Recognition, with varying degrees of accuracy. Reader beware!

6- The Oakville Beaver Weekend, Saturday September 23, 2006 The Oakville Beaver 467 Speers Rd., Oakville Ont. L6K 3S4 (905) 845-3824 Fax: 337-5567 Classified Advertising: 845-3824, ext. 224 Circulation: 845-9742 The Oakville Beaver is a member of the Ontario Press Council. The council is located at 80 Gould St., Suite 206, Toronto, Ont., M5B 2M7. Phone (416) 340-1981. Advertising is accepted on the condition that, in the event of a typographical error, that portion of advertising space occupied by the erroneous item, together with a reasonable allowance for signature, will not be charged for, but the balance of the advertisement will be paid for at the applicable rate. The publisher reserves the right to categorize advertisements or decline. Editorial and advertising content of the Oakville Beaver is protected by copyright. Unauthorized use is prohibited. Commentary Guest Columnist Golden years shouldn't turn into aluminum Garth Turner, Halton MP ost retired couples today lived the model marriages of their time ­ one spouse worked, and made all Garth Turner the money, while the other kept the home and raised the kids. My own parents were part of that gang. As a high school principal in the 1960s, my father made $10,000 a year, while my mother stayed at home and looked after four kids. We had two cars, although one was a clunker. Oh yeah, and we had a boarder who lived in the front room of our twostorey suburban house. In any case, my parents were typical in later life. The old man retired with a teacher's pension, which put him in the top tax bracket, while mom worked as a volunteer and earned ziltch. As a result, they paid a ton of tax, and put nothing extra away for the inevitable 10 years that she would outlive him. Now, my folks never complained and never wanted, but many retirees in a similar boat are truly hurt by the way our tax system punishes families. Because we do not treat families, or couples, as economic units, we end up taxing the stuffing out of the person with the one pension that two people have to live on. This may be an unintended consequence of the way the tax code was written, but it sucks. An enlightened set of MPs should change that, and this is my goal. We should let retired couples split their one pension income between them, to even out the taxes and to even up their lot with dual-income seniors. It's a case of fairness. Straight up. I asked the Library of Parliament to do a research paper for me on this, and pension splitting is really quite affordable. Besides, just about all the lost tax would end up being spent, anyway, finding its way back into the real economy. And I have been working on a Private Member's Bill to put before Parliament on this topic. But we all know what chances that will have, seeing I am about 216th out of 308 MPs in preference to present a bill. (Isn't democracy fun, kids?) So, it struck me that a good way to promote the reasonableness and timeliness of this was to hold a conference and invite all the MPs, the finance minister, the prime minister and the media. And I have friends helping me ­ about two million of them represented by 16 groups like CARP (Canada's Association for the 50 Plus), the Bell Canada Pensioners' Group, Air Canada Pionairs, Retired Teachers of Ontario and federal government pensioners. And should you think this is a narrow issue designed to pad the retirement wallets of a few old folks, let me remind you that the biggest single group in our country ­ the Boomers, representing 32 per cent of the population ­ will soon be the biggest retirement wave ever. Mostly house-rich and cash-poor, you can be sure many of their golden years will be more like aluminum. This, as a consequence, is no small deal. In fact, I hope it is the first step towards income-splitting for all families, and the advent of a family tax return. I will be asking my fellow MPs to support us, sit on the podium of this meeting with me, and to lobby to get it done. In fact, I'm also asking all the Liberal, NDP and Bloc MPs to help as well. And I need you. If you support this, let me know. Every voice will help as I work hard to persuade the government to do the right thing. Garth Turner is MP for Halton. You can reach him on this issue at garth@garth.ca. IAN OLIVER Group Publisher NEIL OLIVER Publisher TERI CASAS Business Manager JILL DAVIS Editor in Chief MANUEL GARCIA Production Manager KELLY MONTAGUE Advertising Director RIZIERO VERTOLLI Photography Director CHARLENE HALL Director of Distribution ROD JERRED Managing Editor WEBSITE oakvillebeaver.com Metroland Printing, Publishing & Distributing Ltd., includes: Ajax/Pickering News Advertiser, Alliston Herald/Courier, Arthur Enterprise News, Barrie Advance, Caledon Enterprise, Brampton Guardian, Burlington Post, Burlington Shopping News, City Parent, Collingwood/Wasaga Connection, East York Mirror, Erin Advocate/Country Routes, Etobicoke Guardian, Flamborough Review, Georgetown Independent/Acton Free Press, Harriston Review, Huronia Business Times, Lindsay This Week, Markham Economist & Sun, Midland/Penetanguishine Mirror, Milton Canadian Champion, Milton Shopping News, Mississauga Business Times, Mississauga News, Napanee Guide, Newmarket/Aurora Era-Banner, Northumberland News, North York Mirror, Oakville Beaver, Oakville Shopping News, Oldtimers Hockey News, Orillia Today, Oshawa/Whitby/Clarington Port Perry This Week, Owen Sound Tribune, Palmerston Observer, Peterborough This Week, Picton County Guide, Richmond Hill/Thornhill/Vaughan Liberal, Scarborough Mirror, Stouffville/Uxbridge Tribune, Forever Young, City of York Guardian RECOGNIZED FOR EXCELLENCE BY: Ontario Community Newspapers Association Canadian Community Newspapers Association Suburban Newspapers of America M THE OAKVILLE BEAVER IS PROUD OFFICIAL MEDIA SPONSOR FOR: United Way of Oakville TV AUCTION Ten creaky kilometers for cancer, and tenderness is afoot I 'm feeling a little tightness in my calf muscles, some soreness in my thighs, some aching in my ankles and some tenderness in my feet. In short, I guess I'm feeling my age. But I'm also feeling good. You see, I just finished the 26th annual Terry Fox Run: yes, believe it or not, I once again managed to propel my creaky bones and ancient carcass over 10 kilometers. I didn't set any land-speed records, but I finished without the aid of oxygen and, despite what I told the volunteer who asked if I needed anything at the end of the run, I didn't really need life-support just to get me over to the water table! It was a perfect day for running. I believe the beloved Terry Fox has both the ear and the favour of God. How else to explain the event's dazzling record for good weather? Further, as usual, the Oakville run had an enthusiastic turnout of young and old. There were cyclists -- heck, even a unicyclist -- rollerbladers, runners, fast-walkers, slow-walkers, parents pushing baby strollers. There were people in great running shape and people just gutting it out to raise some coin for the cause. Personally, I'd hoped to enter the event in great running shape. But a nagging injury derailed my training plans. Consequently, I entered unsure whether I'd be able to finish, without a piggyback. My wife was in a similar predicament: in super shape, but without a whole lot of road work under her wheels. I probably should not use age as an excuse given that an octogenarian practically lapped me, but my wife and I are also old. Okay, maybe we're not old. But were Andy Juniper certainly starting to feel old. And, occasionally, starting to act old. For instance, on the night before the run we sat exhausted on the couch not contemplating going out dining and dancing, but, rather, discussing the assorted inadequacies, failings and faults of our feet. Fun times. In my defense, my wife started this conversation. "My feet are killing me!" she exclaimed. "Your feet are killing you," I gasped, disbelieving that she would dare even broach such a touchy subject with me, The King of Foot Pain, or that she would dare put her measly foot woes up for comparison with my barkin' dogs. And from there the conversation collapsed into something altogether unbecoming and juvenile: My feet are worse than yours. My bunions are bigger than yours. My arches are more collapsed than yours. To overcome age and lack of training, I planned to immerse myself in a happy Zen place via music I'd meticulously selected and plugged into my ipod. If, during the run, you happened upon a man cursing the cruel gods of technology, that was probably me. No, I wasn't too pleased when my ipod froze five minutes into the run and left me without music, or a happy Zen place for that matter. And if you saw a guy getting a little weepy, that may well have been me, too. I have a moment every Terry Fox Run where I think about why I'm running. I think of Terry's journey, I think about the wrath of cancer and what the disease has cost me personally ­ my mother, my father-in-law ­ and I well up. Of course, as a manly man, I don't really want to be tearing up. So, in case anyone questions those tears, I have answers ready. Bugs flew in my eyes. Allergies. Or, my old stand-by: I poked myself hard in the eyes ­ just to make the run more challenging! -- Andy Juniper can be visited at his Web site, www.strangledeggs.com, or contacted at ajuniper@strangledeggs.com