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2 The Canadian Statesman, Bowmanville, November 29, 1978 Section Two I Editorial Comment i The Bottomless Pit Last week, Canada's Auditor General had his annual fun day, pointing out a few of the outrageous expenditures and wasted millions the federal government has made during the past year. This time, his darts were aimed mainly at the top civil servants for their negligence and extravagance. They are the people who arrange the contracts and are supposed to be checking to make certain value is received for every dollar spent, but apparently this is not being done because they felt that the gover- nment's treasury was a bottomless pit filled with money to be spent. Oddly enough, each year when these embarrassing facts are brought to light, there are a couple of days when opposition forces try to gain some political ground out of~the report, the government grits its teeth, the media commentators and writers come through with caustic editorials and the report is put in the files without too much being done about it. Most of the problem can be direc- tly blamed on the government's ad- ministrators. The average Member of Parliament of any party doesn't have access to information that would enable him or her to track down these details. But, that doesn't stop him or her from being blamed by an overtaxed electorate who sees a large portion of their money ear- ned by hard work, going directly into that federal government treasury to be squandered. We don't suppose the government is really too different from some of this country's giant corporations in that regard. There must be millions wasted by them that we don't ever Al The Damned Angels William Muehl, in bis book "Ail The- Daned Angels", tells of going to a Christmas concert at bis son's nursery school. The teacher had made arrangements to in- clude all members of the class in the nativity scene. This meant that there would be a large number of angels andi shepherds surrounding, the manger. To make' sure the angels and shepherds would: present a balanced pic- ture, the teacher had placed a number of chalk marks on the floor of the stage. A circle forl each angel and a cross: for each shepherd. Each child was to find and: stand on the appropriate symbol. This marking system had been done when the children were wearing their ordinary school clothes. It had worked to perfection.: When it came time for: the show, the angels came on stage resplen- dent in flowing robes; with the result that each of them covered not only her own circle but the adjacent cross as well. Then came the shepherds. They swar- med across the stage in confused disorder looking for their marks. Finally, one little fellow, hear about because they have no Auditor General reporting to the public. The people who buy their products are paying in higher prices for those mistakes but don't realize it, whereas the government's errors are brought out into the open. The Auditor General is dreaming when he suggests that civil servants who are responsible for making these grandiose and costly mistakes should be fired. That just isn't done. Maybe they'll get slapped on the wrist, but that's about all. It's discouraging. Frankly, the AG had better be more careful or those civil servants may have him fired. CoUrtesy in Caring During more than twenty years of existence as a regular safety cam- paign, Safe Driving Week has had many varied themes, but 1978 is the first time the focus has been placed on "Courtesy", and the slogan adop- ted by the Canada Safety Council is "Courtesy is Caring." Drivers will readily see the con- nection: a courteous driver is a safe driver. As a part of this year's traffic safety campaign, the Safety Council is asking every driver to take an ex- tra second or two to be courteous to others. Besides helping to avoid acciden- ts, according to Council Traffic Sec- tion Manager, George Currie, the courtesy campaign has another very beneficial result for those who ob- serve it: it makes the courteous driver feel good! frustrated to the point of anger, turned to the sidelines where the teacherthwas tryingao direct them and said, "These damned angels are fouling up the whole show. They've hidden all the crosses! " This presents us with a parable of life. Sometimes well- intentioned Christians hide the crosses at Christmas time. They adopt the attitude that God's love must be en- capsulated in manger scenes, sacred carols, and solemn services of worship. Their posture is symbolized by the slogan, "Put Christ back into Christmas." The truth of the mat- ter is that Christ has never been out from Christmas. We cannot move the Son of God as a player moves a man on a checker board. Christ is always in Christmas. It remains for us to recognize him. When God came some nineteen hundred years ago the majority of the people missed him because he did not come in the way they expec- ted. If history were to repeat itself, the same thing might happen. While we were looking for him in a church manger scene, he might come downtown on main street, dressed not in swaddling bands but in a Santa Claus suit. I remember a Christmas party for handicapped children. They were so crippled, they were confined to wheelchairs. Their lim- bs were maimed and their features distorted from years of suffering. A local service club had brought presents for all. For an hour and a half they played and sang and entertained the children. Some of them were so fortified with alcohol they could har- dly manoeuvre. Yet they picked up those children, cradled them in their arms with a ten- derness that was un- believable, and danced around the floor with them. The children laughed, giggled and responded with glee. Swaggering and staggering down the street, these men might have seemed to be God's mistakes, but to a group of crippled children they were an expression of God's love. This Christmas let us celebrate the coming of the Christ child in the sanctuary. Let us as well, recognize his coming in the market place. For Christ reigns over both. B.H.S. Band in Santa 'Claus Parade S"ug9ar andSpc They Corne inThrees If anyone can tell me why disas- ters run in threes, l'Il be happy to lis- ten. And don't think I'm supersti- tious, because I'm not. I know from experience. During the war, it used to happen on my squadron. We'd lose three pilots in two days, and then none for ten. And, then three more. During the peace, it was the same. One night my wife would give a black eye for some inexplicable reason. The next day, one of the kids would come down with appendictis or something. And the third day I'd get a parking ticket for parking in the same place I'd parked for weeks, free. Last Saturday was no exception. We were delivering our older car to my daughter, in the city. She had finally obtained a position - not a job, mind you- as a secondary school teacher. For one month. But she has to commute for an hour and half, at each end of the day. That's a pretty hefty commute, especially when you have to cope with two of the wildest boys in Christendom, at eachend. So, in her inimitably modest and self-effacing way, she phoned her old man (collect) and suggested he loan her the old Dodge, market value $150, real value about $500, sentimental value about $12,000. This would cut her commuting time to forty minutes. So, in his inimitably stupid way, her old man agreed (why doesn't she move to Vancouver?) And in his ineffably idiotic way, her old man Dear Editor, (Letters to the Editor) Dear Friends, Especially at Christmas time, I think of all the used postage stamps that are needlessly discarded. These seemingly worthless articles, from any country, are sold in bulk by the Scarboro Fathers, to stamp dealers, to help finance mission projects throughout the world. In 10 months I have received over 100 lbs. of cancelled postage stamps, in small quantities, in very large quantities, from schools, service clubs, companies, individuals etc. They add up quickly if everyone collects them for me. Please separate the 8c and loc Queen Head stamps as these are sold separately. It hardly takes a second to rip the used postage stamps off of an envelope leaving a bit of paper around it. This can be YOUR way of helping the world's poor without costing YOU a lot of time or money. Please send (by "Third started worrying about her safety. The old Dodge - it's only eleven - requires a combination of jockey and a tractor driver to handle it. , So the old man, to cut a long story to ribbons, spent dollars $125 in a check-up and repairs so tbat blis baby wouldn't cream berself on highway and leave said old man with two grandchildren to raise. Just hang in there. The saga has barely begun. All you've got so far is background. It gets worser and wor- ser. Saturday morning, Old Lady and self having breakfast before setting off for city to deliver old Dodge. Self breaks tooth while eating toast and jam, leaving him looking like a stand-infor Dracula. However, dentists being the rob- ber barons of the new era, doesn't even phone one. Cheerily sets off for city, tongue flicking like a snake at edges of ruptured tooth. Old Dodge runs down highway like a rocket. Enter city. Enter Disaster Two. On one of busiest thoroughfares, suddenly no brakes. NO brakes. Checked out the day before. Red light comes on. Self, with ner- ves of. steel of old fighter pilot juggles stick judiciously between forward and reverse and comes to rest, unharmed but shaking like proverbial leaf, against bumper of car on sidestreet. There's only one thing more hair- raising than a car without brakes, and that's an aircraft without brakes. I've been through that caper Class" Mail) or bring all your cancelled stamps, anytime of the year to: Mrs. R. M. Chmay 230 Jarvis Street Fort Erie, Ontario L2A 2S5 or Mrs. J.C. Lawrence 6782 Dorchester Road Niagara Falls, Ontario L2J2Z2 Thank you, Rose M. Chmay R. R. 1, Newtonville, Ont. Dear Sir: In April of this year I wrote to you announcing the start of a new addition to Community Care called C.I.V.P. and I appealed for volunteers for our training programme. The response to this letter was excellent and we had 9 volunteers and 8 supervisors trained by the middle of June. Because this programme offers help to those under emotional stress or recovering from mental illness, it was naturally slow starting. Confi- dence had to be established among those in the position to refer clients to the programme. We seem to have accomplished this in some measure as all our volunteers are working with their second or third client. I am taking this opportunity once again to appeal for volunteers. A training session will be held early in the new year, transportation cost will be reimbursed. If you are interested in this challenging and very reward- ing volunteer work, please contact Mrs. Diane Hamre, 19 Temperance Street, Bowman- ville, Ontario or phone 623-2288. Yours sincerely, Joan Murphy, Chairman, C.I.V.P. Committee. Box 52, R.R. 5, Bowmanville, Ont. L1C 3K6 Nov 22, 1978. Dear Friend, "The Season" is upon us, and with it the annual Christ- mas Card madness. Some years ago, I was at the point of too. But in a car, you can always throw the thing into reverse. You might rip out the transmission, but you'll stop. In an aircraft, there ain't no reverse, and you hit the ground at about 100 miles per hour, with several tons of metal. The only brake is the end of the runway, wbich can be a bit baifry. Anyway, got the old Dodge stop- ped. A delightful young Englishman, who lives on the quiet sidestreet on which I came to rest, saw my predicament and gave great aid and comfort. He checked out my master cylinder, which for aIl I knew was in the trunk, and there was fluid in it. He suggested I try to make a garage, two blocks away, by driving in low gear, with him driving right ahead to act as a buffer. Tried this and panicked when horns started hooting viciously. He took me to the garage, insisted on waiting until I was served, com- miserated with me over the $14 towing charge, and took me back to the derelict, where I expected to find my wife literally shaking with rage. At me. Something's happening to her. Ten years ago, in such an incident, she'd have ripped into me with assorted charges of incompetence, mopery and gawk. But she's mellowed. She merely asked me how things went. When the tow-truck arrived and hoisted our front end high, we both elected to remain in the car. As we sailed majestically off to the garage, I ven- tured tentatively, "Fun, isn't it?" dreading the formidable task of, once again, getting the cards away. The following rhyme tells how I have dealt with the dilemna until it no longer even belongs in that category. And so, fellow card-writer, get out your prettiest china teaset and smile! It's time to visit your friends! Yours, with empathy, Marjorie Elliott It costs too much! It takes too long! This custom's gotten out of hand! It's just a racket, after all, This sending cards about the land! Perhaps you've heard a new excuse. There seem to be a lot about! And as the postal rates increase, The Scrooges can be heard to shout: "I won't be sending cards this year. I've more important things to buy Than hundreds of stamps and she grinned, and we were closer than we've been for a while. We suffered a learned exposition from the mechanic, whose favorite word, ironically, was "irony". Not the sort of word mechanics usually toss about. He expounded, "The irony of if is that if I put in a new master cylinder, at about $120, you may still have no þrakes, since there may be air in the lines, and I can't bleed the lines because the foofawraw might break if I applied the thingummy." He went on, "If you still have no brakes, you have a problem." I almost expected him to say, "N'est- ce-pas?", the question was so ridiculous. "Of course, you could put in new thanabobs, but they are $12 each, plus labor." Finally, after an hour and a half, we abandoned the thing in the garage and set off on foot with our presents for the kids: a clown suit for Poke, which my wife had labored on with love for two weeks, a bag of apples that weighed twenty pounds, a pair of shoes for Kim, and various miscellaneous articles, all heavy. We made the bus home by the skin of our teeth, after a hectic half hour with the young 'uns. And Disaster Three struck. Overcome by the day's vicissitudes, I fell asleep in front of the TV, cigarette in hand, and burned a hole in the couch, a blanket, and my stomach. Not to mention my wife's new-found mellowness. C'est la vie. They come in three. Christmas cards. Just let this Christmas custom die!" "Now is that such a good idea?" I ask myself, this wint'ry day. "I'm sure it wouldn't work for me. It makes a Birthday seem so gray." They're reàlly Jesus' Birthday cards, These masterpieces - green and red; And since I can't mail them to Him, I send them to our friends instead! I like to write my Christmas cards. I make a party out of it; And if you could peek in on me, You'd see the candles I have lit. I'm all dressed up in something nice. You'd scarcely know that it was me! You see.. . I'i visiting our friends; And yes, I'm sipping tea! So, whether I choose 'Christmas Bells' Or 'Humble Creche', or 'Santa's Deer', Or maybe 'Currier and Ives' . I'M SENDING CARDS AGAINTHIS YEAR! Dear Mr. James: This is in acknowledgement of the previous articles and pictures in The Statesman and also The Independent, con- cerning yours truly. I was really knocked out when I saw them and wanted to let you know. They will help me in my immediate future (as they have in the past) as I am now involved in a "solo" project and career for myself. As you know in the entertain- ment field, the pen is mightier than the sword, and any kind of press for an "entertainer" is priceless. Thank you. Yours sincerely, William E. Wade Editor's note - Good luck Bill, and thanks. It was good to hear from you. by Eetxrtnb Jter 3ugg