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

OAKVILLE BEAVER Thursday, October 15, 2009 · 6 The Oakville Beaver 467 Speers Rd., Oakville Ont. L6K 3S4 (905) 845-3824 Fax: 337-5571 Classified Advertising: 905-632-4440 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 Letter to the Editor Harnessing the power Stuart Howe itnessing the debate over the proposed power plant here in Oakville, one thing has struck me: the overwhelming absence of common sense. The thought of constructing this facility in its proposed location is absolutely beyond sensible comprehension to anyStuart Howe one who considers it. And yet it moves forward. Also missing in our opposition is any long term creative problem solving, beyond Town Council's excellent decision to invoke an interim control bylaw. Let me explain. Sitting in on the recent Ontario Municipal Board (OMB) hearing, one thing is clear: Ford seems intent on selling and is defending its right to do so. With that in mind, I propose this solution: The Town of Oakville, with the assistance of the federal and provincial governments, should approach Ford to buy the property. Ford gets to sell its land as is its desire, and the Town instantly solves this very serious problem. The next step is to use the land for something that adds to our community in a positive way. Given the location, I suggest we design and build an automotive museum and interactive science centre that chronicles the history of the Ford Motor Company, the story of Ford in Canada and the history of the Ford plant here in Oakville. One can envision the science centre having a small assembly line, where visiting children could "participate" in building miniature Ford vehicles. Governments could use stimulus cash for infrastructure, Ford could supply the content and perhaps other sponsorship and further funds could be raised by the thousands of citizens now mobilized in this debate. We can trade our lawn signs for pledge forms. In the end, everyone in the community wins. Ford extricates itself from a growing PR problem while continuing its long history of excellent corporate citizenship here in Oakville. Politicians on all levels, who are rightly united in their opposition to the current plan, are seen as responding effectively to public sentiment. Oakville gains a state of the art educational and cultural facility that enhances tourism. My children will continue to enjoy the benefits of growing up in Oakville without fear of serious long term health problems. While this type of idea must be refined and adjusted to suit all involved, it is exactly the kind of thinking that is required to stop the inevitable march toward breaking ground on the construction site. I for one am up for the challenge and will be the first in line to get the ball rolling. I hope others will join me. All it takes is vision, creative thinking, and a return to good old common sense. STUART HOWE Editor's Note: Stuart Howe lives with his wife and twin daughters in Falgarwood, approximately 700 metres from the QEW, 950 metres from the Ford Plant and 1,300 metres from the proposed power plant site. NEIL OLIVER Vice-President and Group Publisher, Metroland West DAVID HARVEY Regional General Manager JILL DAVIS Editor in Chief ROD JERRED Managing Editor DANIEL BAIRD Advertising Director RIZIERO VERTOLLI Photography Director SANDY PARE Business Manager MARK DILLS Director of Production MANUEL GARCIA Production Manager CHARLENE HALL Director of Distribution SARAH MCSWEENEY Circ. Manager WEBSITE oakvillebeaver.com W RECOGNIZED FOR EXCELLENCE BY: Ontario Community Newspapers Association Canadian Community Newspapers Association Suburban Newspapers of America THE OAKVILLE BEAVER IS PROUD OFFICIAL MEDIA SPONSOR FOR: United Way of Oakville TV AUCTION DEREK WOOLLAM / SPECIAL TO THE BEAVER TO JAPAN WITH GREETINGS: Thanks to the twinning of Oakville and Neyagawa, the town has enjoyed 25 years of cultural exchange. To commemorate the 25th anniversary, the Town planted a maple tree in Neyagawa Park and unveiled Moose and Wolves, a public art installation at Erchless Estates, created by local artists Bert Jackson and Steve Hudak. Official gifts were presented by Mayor Rob Burton to Consul-General of Japan Mr. Tetsuo Yamashita who received the bronze replicas of the Moose and Wolves art installation on behalf of the City of Neyagawa. The gifts will be sent to Neyagawa, Japan along with official greetings. Baseball bliss, family lore and the batter with two heads I n the car, driving home, when the broadcaster called out in a tense voice that cut through the darkness of night and the static of AM radio: "The count on the batter stands at 3 and 2." And my daughter, who I'd just picked up from her dance class, glanced up from her cell phone upon which she'd been frantically texting friends, and asked: "What are you listening to, hockey?" "Okay, honey," I replied, calmly, not at all ripping my hair out by the roots: "First off, if the count on the batter is 3 and 2, chances are I'm listening to baseball, not hockey. Secondly, who are you, where did you come from and what have you done with my daughter?" You see, this girl is one of us, and Junipers love baseball. Historically. It's our heritage. It's in our blood. And in our genes, both male and female -- with the exception of Aunt Jean, who never cared to know the difference between a baseball and a football, unless she was dating a player, and Aunt Eileen, who was vaguely aware of baseball's existence and would ask each autumn without interest: "So, who are the Yankees playing this year?" (In her defense, the Yanks were such a powerhouse that it naturally seemed their inclusion in the playoffs, if not automatic, was a foregone conclusion). As family lore goes, the passion for the game began with my maternal grandfather, a sportswriter who scribbled for local newspapers under the moniker Bleacher Bill, and who lived and died with the (mis)fortunes of the Chicago Cubs. Picture him at his kitchen table, nervously lighting and relighting his pipe and Andy Juniper listening on his Emerson to the distant call of a game from the Windy City. Given the Cubs' endearing ineptitude, his passion surely involved about as much pain as pleasure. Bleacher Bill's love for the diamond game was passed on to my mother and virtually doubled when she met and married my father, another fanatic. Their early married life included road trips to games in Detroit and Cleveland. Once they took the (very) early version of me to a doubleheader in Detroit. Apparently I was hugely disappointed upon discovering that I was going to see two baseball games not, as I'd imagined, a batter with two heads. As television became more popular and prominent, they watched as many games as they could find on the tube and became eagerly aligned to teams whose TV signal they could secure: for years they watched untold Pittsburgh Pirate games, being amused and entertained by colorful commentator Bob Prince, who would call out with every Willie Stargell home run: "Chicken on the hill for Will." Alas, in 1977, along came the Toronto Blue Jays and my mom and dad's hearts were plucked forevermore. Many of my fondest remembrances of my parents involve baseball, watching games live, or on TV in their cozy sunroom. I think of them a lot at this time of year, as summer swoons and autumn flexes its cool muscles, and baseball is immersed in the marathon of playoff games that lead to the World Series. For a guy from a family of fanatics, it's bittersweet: a time of bliss, with so many games in which to lose yourself and a time for wishing I could turn back the clock and spend one more autumn afternoon watching baseball in that sunroom with two people I miss more and more with each passing season. Andy Juniper can be visited at his website, www.strangledeggs.com, or contacted at ajjuniper@gmail.com.