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Orono Weekly Times, Wednesday, December 18,2002 Basic Black by Arthur Black You must remember disk... Nothing like the Death of a Giant to kicks the slats out of the media adjective corral. Reporters love Big Deaths. When a Trudeau topples or a Queen Mom passes the papers are instantly awash in ink. The TV talking heads wag in stately two-four time; the radio announcers drone on at great lugubrious length. Solemn editorials are penned; paeans from anguished readers readers speckle the letters to the editor page. Quite a chasm between the funereal gushes the great receive and the seven or eight line obligatory obit you and I will rate when we finally kick -but that's okay. We won't be around to read it anyway. But there's a group of humans who really get shafted when they shuffle off the mortal mortal coil. I mean the folks who deserve a big tribute but don't get it. Sure, the artists who write great books, compose timeless music and paint masterpieces masterpieces deserve praise at their passing. Likewise for the geniuses who invented penicillin and smashed the atom. But what about the others? others? What about, for instance, Ed Headrick? You bet Ed Headrick! Bom 1904, died just a few weeks ago - and hardly a peep in the press about it. Oh, he got a reasonably warm couple of paragraphs in the Globe and Mail. They mentioned how Ed was a World War II Vet and how he liked to play the xylophone xylophone - but this was buried in the back pages. For my money, Ed's death should have been a front page, stop the press, banner headlined feature feature story. Because Ed Headrick invented the Frisbee. Well, not so much invented, invented, as refined it. College kids had been flinging paint can lids, plastic tops and various and sundry disks since the 1950's. (As a matter of fact, the very name Frisbee comes from an old pie tin that was manufactured by The Frisbie Baking Company.) It was a lot of fun but you were never quite sure what the disk was going to do once you launched it. A company named Wham- 0 came up with a patented plastic toy it called The Flying Saucer. It performed somewhat somewhat better and it looked a lot like a Frisbee except for one tiny feature: the top was a smooth as a baby's bottom. That's where Ed Headrick came in. Back in 1964, Ed discovered that adding a series Thank you from the staff of for your continued support. May everyone have a Merry Christmas and a happy and healthy New Year. of tiny ridges in the form of concentric circles across the top of the toy stabilized the flight path. Suddenly it didn't wobble any more. Hey, presto! The Frisbee was bom. The funny thing about Ed is he really loved his Frisbee. He went on to invent "Disk Golf' in which players eschew their irons and woods in favour of Frisbees which they fling at targets laid out like the holes at a golf course. Ed Headrick not only invented the game, he excelled at it. He was World Champion. Twice. Did he take the game and the toy seriously? You bet. He liked to call his fellow addicts Frisbyterians. When he reached his nineties, Ed Headrick sort of wrote his own obituary. He requested that his ashes be molded into a limited number of 'memorial flying disks' to be distributed to a select group of family and friends. Frisbyterians all, naturally. But what a way to go! Knowing that, on any given sunny afternoon, chances are there's a part of you out there in a park or on a back lawn sailing through the air from the fingertips of one friend to the fingertips of another. That's better than a five- page obituary. Better too, than leaving those last minute arrangements arrangements to someone else who turns out to be not quite as sympathetic as one would like. I'm reminded of the telephone telephone call to the Obituary Departmént of a newspaper in Toronto some years ago. "How much does it cost to have an obituary printed?" asked the caller. "It's five dollars a word, ma'am," said the newspaper guy. "Fine," said the woman. "Got a pencil?" "Yes, ma'am." "Got some paper?" "Yes, ma'am." "Then take this down: "MacTavish.. .dead." The reporter waited for the woman to go on. Nothing. "That's it?" he asked. "That's it," said the woman. "I'm sorry, I should have told you, ma'am - there's a five-word minimum." "Yes, you should have, young man," snapped the woman. "Alright, let me think...Got a pencil? "Yes, ma'am." "Got some paper?" "Yes, ma'am." "Then take this down: MacTavish dead. Bagpipes for sale." Take a large dose of good cheer, mix with several friends and family, and have a happy, healthy Christmas! Thank you for choosing us. Season's Grec tings from Stutt's Pharmacy TM4 Main Slml, Oiono • Plmnv: !)S T r )00 ( )