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2 The Canadian Statesman, Bowmanville, June 27, 1979 Section Two An Optimist L( The president of Canadian Tire Corporation made some interesting observations on the future of Canada last May during an address at the Ryerson Business Division's spring convocation ceremonies in Toronto. The speech was entitled "An Optimist's Look into the 1980's." Dean Muncaster reminded his audience that in spite of our thoughts during certain periods of essimism, Canada remans a nation greatly endowed with resources, "whether agricultural, mineral, or of our forests and seas. We are among industrialized countries, the most favoùrably placed with respect to energy, whether oil and gas, water power or nuclear capacity. And we do have vast quantities of fresh water, perhaps the least aunreciated of future resources," the Canadian Tire President said. Mr. Muncaster added that our most important resource is our people, noting that as a work force we are "comparatively young, well- trained and generally energetie." "These then are the resources that will stand Canada in such good stead during the 1980s and beyond. At this time, we in Canada need good leadership, wise policies and a stubborn sense of confidence and determination. Given these, once again, as it seemed as recently as the exhilarating days of Expo 67, it is my judgement that the 1980s and the balance of the 20th century can be Canada's," he said. At times, it seems to many of us as though the war between the pessimists and the optimists is being won by those of the pessimistic persuasion. There are bucketfuls of pundits who can give you a reason for doom and gloom to match almost every hour of the day and every day of the year. To hear an optimistic view of Canada is refreshing. And to hear it coming from a leader of Canadian business and commerce -- a leader Panic in The scenario now being acted out along the highways and byways of the United States has all the makings of one of those chilling science-fiction novels depicting doom as man runs out of resources from his over-used planet. There is panic in the streets because of gasoline shortages - real or rigged - and me-first psychology driving motorists to fill'er up when they don't really need that much gas makes the shortages worse. From our perhaps temporary vantage point north of this madness we watch the play unfold: motorists lining up for blocks, sometimes miles, to get gas; armed guards and snarling dogs defending the gas pumps, stations closed because they've run out of supplies, physical fighting among motorists and between them and the gas jockeys. Unpleasant, yes. Un-necessary, maybe. Unlikely here? Don't bet on it. Nobody seems to really know why there are shortages of gasoline in the States. It can't all be blamed on Iran halting its oil production because the U.S. received little of its total oil from that country. There is no doubt that part of it is a power play by station operators and the oil companies to force the U.S. government to allow them to charge higher prices at the pump. Even that government doesn't know - but is trying to find out - whether the shortage is real or deliberate. What is known, however, is that the world will run out of oi. While the date of tbat disaster is anyone 's guess Saudi Arabia guesses that within the next decade the shortages will require profound changes in life style, especially for North Americans. Canadians, like Americans, have been accustomed to limitless oil and have arranged their society accordingly, with most families ooks at Canada such as Mr. Muneaster - is even more cause for rejoicing. Evidentally, you don't have to wear rose-colored glasses to be optimistic about Canada. Mr. Muncaster's thoughts seem particularly appropriate on the upcoming anniversary of Canada's 112th year as a nation. Naturally, most of us will not be spending this upcoming weekend considering Canada's future. We're expecting bright Canadian sunshine so that we can golf and swim and go boating and camp outdoors and go on picnics. And in doing all these things -- in watching the fireworks, attending the parades and generally enjoying ourselves -- we will be proving the pessimists wrong. The fact of the matter is that we are not freezing in the dark or starving in the streets. We are not cast adrift on dark oceans like the "boat people", nor facing gunfire in the streets like the people of Nicaragua. We have survived and thrived during those last 112 years and by keeping our hopes high there is every indication that we will thrive for another 112 years. To close these comments, we will let Mr. Muncaster have the last word. The conclusion to his address at the Ryerson convocation sums up very adequately the point we are trying to make. Having expressed his belief that the 1980s and the balance of the 20th century can be Canada's, IV[r. Muncaster's concluding remarks read as follows: "I would encourage each of you in pursuing your individual interests to be mindful of the challenges and the opportunities presented by this prospect -- to play your parts in striving to achieve the potential available to us -- and to participate in the enjoymeit and the rewards of success. America dependent on the car - or two or three - to get to work, to shop, to do almost anything necessary or merely desirable to get around their sprawling cities and suburbs. Without gas to run The Car, then, we face a horrendous task of recording the way we live, where we live, how we get to work or play or shop, unless our technology developes alternate fuels or personal family vehicles - and none are proven let alone near the mass- production stage. The U.S. is likely to begin pouring billions more dollars into research for alternate energy sources - from the sun, the wind, even energy "farms" of certain vegetation from which motor fuel can be manufactured. The current panic at the pumps is cutting through the red tape holding up such research. In Canada, we are still operating as though we won't get hit by the oil shortage. We have plenty of natural gas, but in the wrong places, so we're selling some to the States rather than piping it to our eastern Canadians who depend on foreign oil. We have extensive reserves of hard-to-harvest ou in our Western tar sands but are not pushing its, development. So far, our gasoline prices at the pumps are among the world's lowest because our government has kept them there artificially. They'll be going up maybe three cents a gallon by the end of summer but our wellhead price for Canadian oil will still be only $13.75 a barrel compared to the world price of $17.05 and $9 a barrel less than we charge Amercians for our oil. The summer madness spreading through the United States is frightening but far worse could be in store when winter comes if there is not enough oil to fend off the cold in homes and keep industry functioning. Examiner Looks More Like 1935 Than 1979 uar and Sice Many Happy Returns Had a birthday the other day. Nobody remembered it except me, my wife, and the North American Life Assurance Company. I, because I was one year older and not dead yet. My wife for roughly the same reason. And the insurance company likewise. They don't have to pay off that thousand dollars, and can go on investing, at huge interest rates, that $12.00 annual premium my mother made me take out when I was sixteen. We all reacted differently. The insurance company sent me a 30- cent birthday card, signed by a guy I never heard of. He's about the eighth agent who has wished me a happy birthday, over the past four decades. I've probably outlived the other seven. My wife, at a loss to buy a gift for the man who has everything, bought me a stapler. Very good, I am constantly coming home with masses of essays to mark, none of them stapled together. As a consequence, I am constantly getting pages of one student's essay mixed in with pages of another student's essay, with dis- combobulating results. For example, on page 4 of Joe's essay, he finds written, "Well said, Linda. An excellent parallel." And on page 7 of Linda's essay, she might find, "Right to the point, Joe." It is embarrassing, confusing, and' stupid. Now, with a stapler, their essays will be all in one piece, thought it's quite possible they will find a piece of finger-skin stapled to the essay. I'm not much good with complicated machinery. Not to be outdone on my birthday, I bought myself a present - a couple of fair belts of a well-known arthritis reliever. It comes in a brown paper bag, and, thanks to a greedy provincial government, is a leader in the inflation rate. The card was innocuous. The stapler didn't do much harm either, except for the two staples I put into my thumb while trying it out. A little thumb-sucking, not at all an unpleasant activity, cured that. It was my own present that did the damage. Carried away by a flood of birthday sentimentality and malt, I decided to take my daughter, grandsons, and wife on a trip this summer. I felt a warm flood of kinship or something, and made up my mind that I was going to visit my ain folk, show of my clever and beautiful daughter to aunts and things who haven't seen her since she was in diapers, and proudly parade my grandboys to great-aunts, second cousins, and anyone else who would look at them, or put up with them. This wasn't so bad. It's not far out or weird to take your mob for a camping visiting trip. At the time, it seemed a great idea. Even my old lady was luke-warmly interested. My daughter was excited. The boys were ecstatic. Ah, yes. A sweep down and around old Ontario. Through Algonquin Park, camping amid the bears and deer and hooligans. Visit my niece at Pembroke, who has a kid the right age, five. Dig out old recluse Don McCuaig at Renfrew and catch some trout in his pond. Across the Ottawa River at Portage du Fort, and a visit to their great-grandmother's home, sitting on an island, high above the river. Drop in on their great-uncle Ivan, at his beautiful rustic retreat on Calumet Island. Then to Green Lake, on the Quebec side, where I spent my happiest childhood summers. Down along the river to Ottawa, and cousins galore. Maybe drop in on Joe Clark and give him a tip or two. Then to Perth, where I grew up. Show the boys the swimming- place where I won prizes, the park where I kissed girls, the sandpit where I had my first smoke, the old Presbyterian manse where I learned to swear (from listening to my father, ear against the pipe as he cursed the furnace). Then a swing down to the St. Lawrence Seaway, see another sister, and then the long swing home, camping and cooking out, and detouring to things like Niagara Falls, the weekly newspapers' convention in Toronto, the Stratford Festival, and any zoos or points of interest along the way. Now, I didn't say all these things. But they are starting to build up. What began as a germ, a one-week swing through the Ottawa Valley, has turned into a three-week Grand Tour. My first thought was scrounging on relatives, with the odd night in motel rooms. A modest trip. Then I began to realize that two motel rooms would be at least fifty bucks a night. And also that five of us can't come crashing in on some poor aunt who has one spare bedroom. I'm too old for tenting on the old camp-ground, with an insomniac wife and two kids who would be pulling out the tent-pegs as fast as I drove them. And things that go bump in the night. So the answer seems to be a camper, one of those great, ugly things that pollute the highways and drive other drivers crazy. That's going to be a couple of hundred bucks a week, plus grub and gas and everything that goes with it. It's going to cost me more than a trip to Europe. I shoulda stood in bed on my birthday. Dear Mr. James, I would like to explain from the onset, that I have not ever written a letter of complaint before this time, nor do I consider myself an ardent feminist. I was appalled by a statement which appeared on the front page of the June 13th issue, and am consequently driven to voice my displeasure. It was my belief that now as we rapidly approach the 1980's, men had come to regard women, as both intelligent, and responsible, human beings. I was obviously believing in an illusion, it seems that the old-fashion (aremaic) image of women, as empty-headed, frivolous, and irresponsible is still alive and well, and being maintained within the confines of your publication. I am referringrto the comment which read as follows: (in reference to Marion Mockney). "wonder what will happen when the fire siren goes and she's half way through getting a new permanent?" I feel that this statement is an insult to Marion Mockney, and an unwarranted attack on her dedication and competence as a firefighter. If the previously mentioned statement was intended as a joke, it was in poor taste. It is my opinion that an official apology is in order. Sincerely, Cynthia Savage Editor's note: We herewith officially apologize for our male chauvinism and our poor taste. Happily, Marion hasn't complained, probably because she realized we were only kidding. Must be more careful in future with those quips. Dear Johnny; In a letter published in the Statesnan last week re the salary increases I said "Mr. Hobbs seems rather subdued for an ex-mayor." Councillor -obbs phoned me pronto explaining he had in fact protested the raises loud and long. I said I only reported what was told me by a person present at the meeting. Here is the misunderstanding. This matter was hashed out in camera and as Ivan said if you talk against a thing for five minutes in camera as he did you would look pretty stupid to go over it all again a bit later in council. I agree and think perhaps these discussions should be in public so the rest of us might know who is saying what. If you would like to compare the salaries of Barr, Holliday and Prout to other area sde of the road. Aboutruorter to four, three tenage boys,' returning from [o r shool, stopped at the bikes. them, and completely wreck- ed two beyond repair. The counciliors it looks like this.. third can be fixed. Newcastle (pop. 33,000) $8200, 1 am very upset, and Stoney Creek (pop. 30,366) confused. Why would they do $4356, Halton Hills (pop. 33792) sorething like this? Was it fun $5940, Belleville (pop. 35,163) destroying a littie boy's bike, $4452, Barrie (pop. 34,050) or was it watching them drag $4150. the parts home, crying their 'Nuff said. hearts out? Morgan I doubt we, or the police will _________discover who did this. It's a shame we cannot lut June 19, 1979 our son play away from home, To the Editor; as it is no longer safe. We have been living in Yours truly, Bowmanville almost a year. Mrs. Diane Dunn We thought this was a lovely 57 Loscombe Dr., town, until last night. Bowmanville My six-year-old, along with 623-6356 two friends were playing in P.S. I hope you print this for the field behind our home. the sake of the boys. They just They left their bicycles at the may have consciences.