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w w w .i n si d eH A LT O N .c o m O A K V IL LE B EA V ER Th ur sd ay , O ct ob er 6 , 2 01 1 6 THE OAKVILLE BEAVER IS PROUD OFFICIAL MEDIA SPONSOR FOR: RECOGNIZED FOR EXCELLENCE BY: 467 Speers Rd., Oakville Ont. L6K 3S4 (905) 845-3824 Fax: 337-5566 Classified Advertising: 905-632-4440 Circulation: 845-9742 The Oakville Beaver 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. United Way of Oakville Ontario Community Newspapers Association Canadian Community Newspapers Association Suburban Newspapers of America NEIL OLIVER Vice-President and Group Publisher, Metroland West DAVID HARVEY Regional General Manager JILL DAVIS Editor in Chief 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 ERIC RIEHL / OAKVILLE BEAVER GOOD JOB: Ainsley, left, and Shae Soetrieik of Oakville enjoy the fare of Metroland's recent Carrier Appreciation Day event held at Stoney Creeks Green Mountain Farm. Letters to the Editor Perhaps the Town of Oakville could put its financial house in order (spend- ing) before resorting to rapid park and facility fee increases. The same day I read the Oakville Beaver report of the increases, I noticed the Town had installed lids on all the garbage receptacles around my neighbor- hood. I was astounded to see they had secured each lid to each receptacle with a pad lock and chain. The lock being the astounding part; I have seen many a trash can in my day and not a one has garnered much thought or concern from me until now. You see while the lock was secured to the lid and chain, at the other end; the chain was secured to the receptacle with a nut and bolt. Okay, the Town doesnt want someone wondering off with its brand spank- ing new lids, best to go ahead and secure them. Apparently roving bands of trash lid thieves are deterred by locks. The Town may well have done extensive investigation into this by profiling fast food outlets. Though I cant say I have noticed locks on the trash cans when picking up my daily coffee. How did someone with enough authority to purchase lids and locks, not have enough sense to fathom a lock at one end of a chain and a nut and bolt at the other end is only as secure as its weakest link? So, at one end of the chain we have an $8 lock secured to a plastic lid (price unknown but surely valuable, hence the security) and at the other end, we have a 20-cent bolt and nut secured to 40 gallon steel drum (valuable only to responsible dog owners). How can a thief penetrate such a defence? There are 10 such receptacles within a 10-minute walk of my house. Is this a town-wide project? I suspect it is. How many receptacles are we talking, hundreds? Are we really purchasing hundreds of locks at $8 a pop when hundreds of 10-cent nuts and bolts will suffice? And what of the lids? Was it too easy for waste collectors to empty the receptacles (sarcasm)? Or is it to keep people from putting their household garbage in the recep- tacle. I dont know why, when each can has a perfectly good sign to stop that practice. Anyone with an answer to justify this, I would love to hear it for a chuckle as I contemplate if I really want to pay another minimum $50 increase on top of the outrageous amount I already pay to play hockey in Oakville. Douglas Hughes, Oakville Pondering hike in fees and garbage lid security measures The Oakville Beaver is a division of When youre stretched to the limit and stressed to the max overwhelmed by work and life and pretty much ready to snap what you really dont need is an unnatural disaster. Alas, one day last week, having taken advantage of welcome autumn sunshine to venture outside and continue the process of prepping the property and putting all the flowers to bed for winter, I came inside to find a flood in our kitchen. I had three dogs in my care at the time, and I was fabulously fatigued from my labours, which may explain why I cursed the dogs when I first mindlessly stepped in the large pool that was covering the hardwood and that saturated my socks. Only after I gave my head a shake and grasped the extent of the water did I realize that no dog (heck, no pack of dogs) could have produced that much pee, no matter how much pond water it had imbibed (yeah, the hounds like to drink pond water, the more algae the better). Resisting the temptation to collapse onto the floor and wait out the flood in the fetal position, I tore about trying to simultane- ously mop up the mess and determine its source. While successful at efforts at absorption, I failed to find the source. It was at then that my ears brought to my attention a sound no homeowner should ever hear. Racing to the basement I found water pouring from the ceiling, my own little Niagara Falls. Once I had buckets in place to catch the waterfall before it splashed upon our carpet, I poured myself a fifth of whiskey, lit a cigar, and contemplated the irony: while the greatest issue facing man- kind is a lack of life-essential water, here I had unwanted buckets of this vital clear liquid gushing out my ceiling. Ah, but I jest about the whiskey-fueled contemplation. In actual fact, I called a plumber (because I had yet to find the source of this unnatural disaster) and I called our insurance company (because I sensed this was not water so much as money gushing from the ceiling), and then I poured that whiskey. As I write, were living in a torture chamber. Have been for four straight days. I wont say Im on edge. No, like the daredevil at Niagara, I barreled over the edge eons ago. To recap: The plumber determined the source water had apparently spilled forth out the front of our fridge via a malfunc- tioning icemaker/water purifier (another family appliance gone to the dark side). The insurance company had a restoration crew at our door in an hour. And that crew was all business. They spent six hours fitting our hardwood with space-age technology, hulking heaters and massive driers. They cordoned off the basement like it was a crime scene; more heaters, dehumidifiers, etc. We were impressed, with everyone from fast-acting insurers to profes- sional restorers. Problem is, all this restoration equipment is a little intrusive (I cant count how many times Ive tripped over this stuff) and a lot loud. Put it this way: for the past four, torturous days its been like an airport runway around our place, with 747s taking off in our kitchen. Today the crew returns to (hopefully) divest us of the noise-makers. Then the rebuild of the damaged areas begins. Stretched to the limit and stressed to the max, this is exactly what we need: more work crews in the house, an unnatural disas- ter. Andy Juniper can be contacted at ajjuniper@gmail.com, found on Facebook http://www.facebook.com, or followed at www.twit- ter.com/thesportjesters. How to remain (kind of) useful in face of unnatural disaster