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Playing Sani A great many of this country's artists, writers and actors must believe in Santa Claus. And who could blame them? We recentîy received a press release from the Ontario Arts Council which proves that there is indeed a Santa Claus for hundreds of artists and arts organizations across the province. The press release reports that grants totalling just over $7 million have been approved for the arts in Ontario and that amount is part of a budget of $11.7 million which will be awarded in a variety of arts disciplines during the 1979-80 fiscal vear. it used to be that the artist was a poor, starving, soul who lived in an attic and created beautiful words, music, or paintings before dying at an early age of tuberculosis. But all that has changed now. The infusion of government funds should transform the artists into respected members of the middle class. In fact, since so much of their funding is coming from the government they are probably one step removed from being civil servants. We realize that in criticizing funding for the arts we are also criticizing many legitimate artists who have deservedly received financial assistance. We do not begrudge these persons their grants. However, we are convinced that among the 155 artists and 496 arts organizations which received the New Life Styl So far, we've been lucky in Canada as compared with the United States, but sooner or later the energy crisis will hit us where it hurts and we would be well advised to be preparing for it now. U.S. President Carter laid it on the line with his citizens on Sunday night and so far they appear to be reacting positively, probably because they already have had a taste of what is to come, with gasoline shortages, lineups at service stations and so on. Here, we continue our wasteful ways, grumbling but not too disturbed by increasing prices for gasoline and heating oil. About all that has happened because of the price increases is a demand for igher weekly pay cheques to cover the increased cost of living. Frankly, we've been spoiled rotten compared with the rest of the world and we wonder how Canadians will react when the facts of life hit home. Will we have to enlarge our police forces to prevent violence when we can't drive into a service station and obtain a tank full of gasoline for our vehicles that we've come to depend on so completely for getting to work in nearby cities or towns, for weekend jaunts to the cottage. visits Impossible It seems impossible to believe tnat it will be 10 years ago this Friday that man first walked on the moon. On June 20, 1969, Neil Armstrong first planted human footprints on the rocky lunar landscape. That moment is burned into the memories of millions. Most of us watched the event on television and few of us will forget it When Armstrong stepped onto the moonscape, he said that he had made: "One small step for man ... One giant leap for mankind." But in the 10 years mat nave etapsea snce those words were spoken, the optimistic spirit of space exploration seems to have disappeared. The exploration of space continues. But it is the kind of exploration that is of greatest interest to technical experts and scientists. It was them moon expeditions that were able to capture our imagination. These trips were a little like the voyages of a Claus Role government there are a number of persons who do not deserve a hand out What we are really saying is that we do not trust even the most well- meaning of governments to donate such large sums of money to the arts wisely. We doubt that they should even be attempting to do so. It is a true "Philistine who believes that you can invest money in artists and art organizations and produce worthwhile art. Most people connected with creative work would tell you a different story. We believe that if a person has talent and creativity and drive, he can produce works of art in almost any environment. There are many stories of composers who sold priceless symphonies for a few cents in order to keep alive. They were successful artists in spite of their circumstances. And there are accounts of poets and painters who worked at regular, uninspiring jobs as school teachers and bankers while creating masterpieces. On the other hand, no amount of financial security will prop up a person with marginal talent. It may well be that there is another Beethoven or Picasso or William Shakespeare developing his skills in Canada at this moment. But, you can rest assured that if this person is in any way successful, his or her talent will be due to a higher power than the federal or provincial government. Approaching to friends and relatives in far away places or more importantly for the every day conduct of business. What will happen to the thousands of Canadians who head for winter retreats in Florida as they drag their trailers along the thruways every Fall and back in the Spring. And what do we do when the oil man fails to keep the tank in the cellar filled during a below zero cold snap in the winter? Maybe none of these things will happen in Canada, but it's difficult to foresee how we can justify continuing to squander our resources as we have been doing when our powerful neighbors to the South are being forced to become less dependent on foreign oil. Frankly, we expect that in the very near future, the new government in Ottawa will take steps to persuade the Canadian people that we too have an energy crisis that will have to be dealt with by conservation and self imposed restrictions or the government will step in to sponsor more stringent measures. Anyway we look at it, there are going to be big changes in our life style in the years ahead and we'd better do our best to be ready for them. as it Seems Columbus or the landing of the first settlers in North America. Later, the trips to space became almost routine. And it seemed as though trips to the moon aroused as much interest as a bus leaving for Hamilton. When men first walked onthe moon 10 years a go there were those of us who thought we were headed towards a world portrayed in Buck Rogers comic strips. Ten years later, we have fully realize that voyages to the stars are not going to happen for many years. The trip to distant planets is going to be at least as tricky as manoeuvering a full- sized car through Toronto's downtown traffic. Between man and the stars there is still a big gap. In fact, we are no closer to those twinkling lights in the sky than were our forefathers who saw them shining through the trees from the seats of their horse-drawn wnan- Hitting the Books at BHS Library ugar and ice Happy Anniversary Ii ail ak A couple of big anniversaries are coming up for weekly newspapers, or community newspapers, as they are called these days. In July, the Canadian Community Newspapers Association is celebrating its diamond jubilee at a convention in 'oronto. In Wiarton, Ontario, the Echo is celebrating its 100th birthday this July. I'd like to take in both, as a member of the former for eleven years and editor of the latter for the same period. Some of the happiest years of my life, as far as work goes, were spent in the weekly newspaper business. And as work goes, it went a long way - about sixty hours a week. It requires a certain type of pesonality and outlook to be a happy weekly editor. Or it did when I was one. It's a lot different now, with young, hard-nosed editors, fresh out of journalism school, imitating the techniques of the dailies. First of all, you had to have a complete lack of material desires. You could make a living, but you never got rich, or even well to do. Next, you had to keep your back shop happy, the printing staff. And anyone who has ever tried to keep a printing staff happy knows that it's about as easy as attending a picnic of rattlesnakes without being bitten. Then, of course, you had to tread the thin line between being fearless, independent and outspoken and selling enough advertising to keep body and soul together. The guy who attacked the town council for some nefarious bylaw, and the guy who went out and tried to sell ads to the six merchants on the town council were the same guy, very often. There were the inevitable typographical errors to harry the obfuscated editor. In a wedding write-up, the bride very often came out as the "bridge". In funeral accounts, the pallbearers were apt to be described as "six old fiends" who carried the coffin to its final rest. In a small town, there are currents of jealousy and antagonism and family feuds that run deep and strong. Praise a local politician for making a good move, and his third cousin from the other side of the family would call you up and tell you, with vivid detail, what a snake- in-the-grass your first man was. Venture to criticise, however gently, an athlete or a public figure, and you'd have your ears scorched by eighty-four close relatives who normally despised the guy, but rallied to their roots when an aspersion was cast on the clan. Hell hath no fury like a Women's Institute whose boring account of its meeting, including everything from who said Grace to what they ate, was cut by the blue pencil. And then, of course, there were the drunks who would call you up at 3 a.m. to ask you to settle an argument about who scored the final goal in the 1934 Stanley Cup playoff. And the kooks who would call you up and try to plant a libellous rumour, or demand that you come out to the farm and take a picture of their home-made threshing-machine. There was always some country corresondent furious because her 'news', consisting of who visited whom on Sunday afternoon, was crowded out by a rush of late advertising. "Why don't you leave out some ads?" There was no lack of variety in the weekly business, when you were reporter, editor, advertising manager, proof reader, and general bunboy for the tyrants in the back shop. I distinctly remember a St. Patrick's Day night, when there was an unexpected heavy fall of snow. An elderly gentleman of Irish descent had been celebrating the day in the pub. When he hadn't arrived home bv ten o'clock, his housekeeper called for help. The local pubs were alerted, and the hockey rink, where there was a game in progress. Most of the male population, at least half of them half-lit, stormed off to search for the missing man. We found him, covered in snow, about a quarter- mile from his house. Back to the rink and the pubs. I remember shouting at deaf old ladies who were celebrating their ninetieth birthdays, and getting some of the most surprising answers. "How long has your husband been dead?" "Nah, he never was much good in bed." "To what do you attribute your long life?" "Yas, I was always a good wife." And so on. To be a successful editor, though not necessarily a good one, you had to continually straddle fences. This becomes a bit of a chafe after a whole. You had to be able to write on demand. I remember one week when there was absolutely nothing to filI a two-column, four inch space on the4ront page. In about twenty minutes, I knocked out eight column inches of sparkling prose in which the reader had to read to the end to discover that nothing worth reporting had happened that week. It sounds as though I'm knocking the game. Not so. These are fond memories. And there were rewards, most of them intangible. It was kind of nice to be introduced to strangers as "our" editor. It gave satisfaction when a subscriber from away down in the States dropped in on his way to the summer cottage and said he, "Sure liked that piece about the deer hunt." And there was a certain quiet pride in one's status. My daughter, aged eight, produced the fitting requiem when I left newspaper work and went into teaching. "But Daddy", she observed, "that means you're not The Editor any more. I sadly agreed. Dear Editor: I cannot get over the gall of some people, first someone turns our dog into the dog pound for trespassing when he has ID on. Then, my husband and I and three very young children go to the Summerfest in Pontypool, for an enjoyable evening to see our friends only to find that when we're ready to come home at a decent time, someone has let the air out of two of my tires, and no other cars had been touched. I personally admit this is a low down idiotic trick to pull when three children should suffer the consequences of not returning to their beds around 10 but instead 1 o'clock the following morning. I do have some idea who it might have been. If you've got something against me, come face to face and say it to me. My car happens to be my personal property, my pride and joy. l'il admit with :ume of the roads I travel, it is not too clean. Could someone please send any information, which will be kept confidential about any- one around a 1975 Chev Custom Impala, dark brown with a beige Landau vinyl roof. I would truly like to know who did this. I would like to thank Roy Strong for the use of two tires to get us home, and to Jewel Moore, Jim Curtis, Allan Argue, Alvin Evans for your help, I deeply appreciate it. I strongly suggest, that in the future when anyone has the strong urge to pull an act of vandalism or whatever, stop and think, then ask yourself. "How would I like to have this done to me?" I hope that all you mis- chievious people realize that doing bad things, usually always costs someone money, I can only hope that when you grow up some of these things happen to you. Then maybe you will see how you would feel when someone has done something to you or destroyed your property. If more people use the train the goo Lord gave you we wouldn't need as many police and the courts wouldn't be as full would they? So, next time just think. "Do unto other people as you would have them do unto you." I remain Mrs. B. Francis Newcastle. Canadian Statesman 62King St. W., Bowmanville, Ont. Attention: The Editor Dear Sir: We the members of the Oshawa-Whitby Veterinary Association including Ajax and Bowmanville believe it to be important that the dog owning public be informed of the potentially dangerous canine parvovirus disease which may run rampant in this and other areas this summer. The symptoms of this disease are vomiting (usually early in the disease) subse- quently leading to severe malodorous diarrhea (some- times bloody) general lethargy, lack of appetite, dehydration and in some cases death. The causitive agent appears to be related to the feline distemper virus. For this reason the following recommendation is made. Any dog which is likely to encounter a stressful situation such as boarding, hospitaliza- tion, travelling or going to shows can be vaccinated with KILLED feline distemper vaccine. This must be done twice at 2 - 3 week intervals. The problem is that these recommendation is made as a result of preliminary research work and the feline distemper vaccine is not licensed for use in dogs. Therefore the follow- ing waiver (or something similar) is to be signed by the owner of the dog prior to vaccination: .. , the undersigned, under-.. .stand that this vaccine is.. ..being given to my dog.. ..entirely at my own risk... ..Any side effects or.. ..problems relatable to.. . its use are not the respon-.. .sibility of the individual.. .or agency administering.. . the vaccine. Also, because.. .the use of this vaccine is.. .an early development of.. . . this disease, no guarantee.. ..of protection is made in.. . any individual dog. Though this waiver may seem awesome to dog owners, so far, there have been no relatable or provable side effects reported. I trust you will seriously consider publication of this information for the benefit of the dog owning publicinAhe face of this potentially epi demic disease. Yours truly, G.M. MacLeod, D.V.K For the Oshawa-Whitby Veterinary Association