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C2 - dh a op NR Sans EE 5 ois BY & ISS CT a A A ye Ni As i a) - NASR SES 2H" nw wm. a x Rh Nr PE FRA TE OR VE RNEO CUS ISE NA NOE TOPE Sd FILL BY Fv ea Tes 5 Ra Tek » SEE DRE NATH PR REE SRA GA AEA AES FLL FRAMES AY editoriol poge Gambling Casinos Ontario's consumer and commercial relations minister Frank Drea has again ruled out the possibility that this province will allow any kind of limited casino-type gambling operations. Speaking to the Ontario Industrial Development Council in Niagara Falls last week, Frank Drea said his reasons for the no-gambling stance are that allowing casino operations would hurt the so-called "soclal gambling" operations now run by charitable organizations, as well as the sale of private and government lottery tickets. Leaving aside the moral issue of legalized gambling, Mr. Drea's stance against casinos opera- ted by the province seems to miss a couple of importance factors. First of all, a few casino operations in designated areas such as Niagara Falls or Toronto, will not adversely effect bingos or "Monte Carlo" nights run by service clubs and church groups in every small town in Ontario. Those who patronize these kinds of localized operations are not going to give them up to run off every Friday night to a large casino operated in the larger centre in the Golden Horseshoe. A casino operation in Niagara Falls or Toronto would cater largely to tourists from the United States, people who are not spending money now at local bingos in small-town Ontario. For some in our society, gambling of any-kind-is-{- --considered an evil. But there is no denying the fact that the public has an appetite for gambling, and there is a lot of money to be made if the provincial government steps in to take a large piece of the action. Our provincial lotteries are falling on hard times at the moment. But they don't need, as Mr. Drea suggests, protection from casino operations. What has happened is that the public has been subjected to lottery over-kill, and the public has grown tired of putting down $5 or $10 in the hopes that a computer will draw a winning number. And finally, if New York State moves to legalize casino-type operations, they will draw heavily on patrons from the affluent Golden Horseshoe of Ontario. Not only will the money spent there go out of Ontario forever, gamblers will also be spending for such things as hotel rooms and meals, both of which are taxed by the Ontario government. Frank Drea's arguments against legalized gambling appear to be rather flimsy. Could the real reason be that legalized gambling on a small scale would not sit very well with small-c conservative voters in rural Ontario, on whom the party must count heavily for support at election time? J \ 1F I'M) THE PUBLIC... AN' YOURE THE SERVICE . .. WHERE'S THE ALLIANCE 7 The Right To Strike About 50,000 clerks who work for the federal government are off the job this week, on a legal strike. The Public Service Alliance wants more money for its members, a cost-of-living clause, and a shorter work week. The latter is something that has become ali too familiar in contract disputes, especially those invol- ving public servants. They want more money for doing less work. It just doesn't make sense, somehow. The strike will snarl just about all dealings the public has with the federal government, including such things as pension and family allowance cheques. : And while the union leaders say that an agree- ment has been worked out to keep the mails flowing, one can't help but wonder just how long that will last, especially if the strike drags on. The Canadian public is fed up with strikes. Federal civil servants, even those in the lower echelon of the pay scales, already work a 37-hour week, are almost immune to lay-offs and have a pension plan that is indexed to the cost of living. The right to strike among civil servants who are hired to serve the public, should be abolished in this country. ~I'met this strange woman at university, better to marry than to burn, as Paul told bill WEDDING ANNIVERSARIES One of my father's favourite jokes, before the word "corny" had been invented, was, "It's a long time to be married to a strange woman." He repeated it once a year, on his wedding anniversary, and I can still remem- ber my mother's eyes rolling up, the way women's eyes roll up when their husbands are telling a story they've heard eleventeen times before. But it pops into my head every time I think of my own wedding anniversary, which is usually about two weeks after the event. This year, I remembered about two weeks before the event, but by the time this appears in print, I'll probably have forgot- ten completely. My wife is no better. She can be so sentimental it's downright disgusting, over such trivia as her children, her grandchild- ren, her father, her house, a particular party twenty years ago, a friend who is in trouble, and, very occasionally, about me. But when it comes to really important things she cares not a whit. The first smiley indication of this was when I gave her a flower on Mother's Day many years ago. She said, curtly, "I'm not your mother." _ Birthdays, same deal. - She was born on 'February 28, surely easy enough to remem- ber, with its connotations of Leap Year. I forget. She does too, though I'm not sure hers isn't psychological - a year older. This attitude permeated our family. our kids certainly knew what Christmas was, little greedy-guts. And Easter: church with joyous music, hunt for Easter eggs, probab- ly a visit with grandparents. But I'm quite sure they don't know why the first of July is a holiday, have only the vaguest idea what Remembrance Day and Thanksgiving are all about, and exactly which day is their birthday, though they know the month they were born in, because that ties in with astrology, in which they fairly firmly believe. But my Dad was right, even though repititious. 'It's a long time to be married to a strange woman." Especially one you didn't even know before you met her, if you follow me. when I came home from the wars. I thought she was demure, beautiful and shy. And she was. She thought I was brash, swaggering, and far too unheeding of the university's rules, which I was. After many years of togetherness, we've each retained only one of these adjectives. She is totally lacking in demure, she is still beautiful and she is about as shy as Muhammed Ali. I have completely lost my brash, have nothing to swagger about, but am still far too unheeding of the rules of the establish- ment. ~----An-odd combination, you'll say, to get married. And it was. She thought me boorish, and uncouth, especially after I fell sound asleep in the middle of a lecture by the late, great poet, E.J. Pratt. She didn't- realize that I had been at a lunch-time reunion with some old Air Force pals who'd just arrived back from overseas, and that it was only great gallantry and iron will that had forced me to make the lecture. I though she was prissy, prudish, and dumb, because she never missed a lecture, wouldn't even throw one inviting look at the dashing young ex-fighter pilot in her class, and ventured no opinions on anything. Oh, well. Chemistry. I guess. I won't go into the details, but a few months later we were exchanging furtive kisses in the lib- rary stacks, groping embraces in doorways, and skipping lectures right and left. And a year later, we were married, with no pomp and little circumstance, poor as churchmice, but head over heals. It was the Ephesians or somebody. And about ten months later, we had a little stranger in our midst, and were poorer than churchmice. But still head over heels. That little stranger is now thirty-three. Now, I'm not going to tell you which anniversary this is. I don't want a flood of mink coats and gold bars and ten-cent cards coming in. Suffice to say that we won't celebrate it together, but we'll be together. There's nothing quite so disgusting as the married couple who can't stand each other's guts, but go out for a big dinner, or throw a big party, on their anniversary. Like most couples, we've grieved and wept together, laughed together, helped each' other over some rocky roads, loved together, fought with mutual fury, taken great joy and great heart-aches from our children, idolized and spoiled our grand- children, and managed to muddle along, day to day, in this peculiar life that throws up _ road-blocks and rainbows, groans and guffaws, tears and terrors, death and taxes. We still constantly worry about the welfare, state of mind and health, and golf scores of the other. We still fight frequently, although I have called and asked that my wife be taken off the list of "Husband-beaters'". She hasn't thrown anything bigger than a glass of water at me in months. My dad was right. "It's a long time to be married to a strange woman." And may yours be as long, and as strange. Not your wife; your marriage. ® A J 8