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4 -- PORT PERRY STAR -- Wed. August 7, 1985 editorial comments Right to Life Should police forces in this country continue to have the right to arbritarily stop motorists to determine if drivers have been drinking to excess? That question was answered by the Supreme Court recently which ruled in the affirmative. To be sure, the Court's judgement was not unanimous. In fact, it car- ried by just a 4-3 margin. Obviously, the issue is not black and white if the highest jurists in the land can't come to an outright conclusion on the legality of this measure. But the Court ruled that the random spot checks conducted by most police forces, especially during the Christmas season, are reasonable, and not a violation of the right to life, liberty and security. The legal challenge to the spot checks was launch- ed more than three years ago by an Oakville resident on the grounds that this section is an infringement of rights. Thankfully, the Supreme Court ruled otherwise. Studies have proven that the Christmas crack-down on drinking drivers have worked in recent years in help- ing to reduce the number of accidents where alcohol was a factor. Knowing full well that at any time of day or night, on any street or highway, there may be a police officer flagging down every car is a deterrent of the best kind in keeping drunks off the road. Inconvenient for the motoring public? Sure it is. But just imagine how inconvenient it would be to be slamm- ed head on by a blind drunk doing 60 miles an hour. An infringement of basic rights? Some say it is. But ask the families of the victims of drinking drivers about their rights and see what kind of an answer you get. Co Our major complaint about the random police spot checks is that they are just random. There should be more of them, and not just at Christmas time. Police forces say they are not able to continue the intense program 12 months of the year because of a lack of manpower and resources. That's too bad, and it's long overdue for the politicians who control police budgets to recognize this fact. It's a pity these random checks are not in force 52 weeks in the year. While we agree there may be some points in law worth arguing over the legality of the so-called arbitrary nature of spot checks, we would venture to say that the overwhelming majority of Canadians accept them as necessary, and agree that they help save lives. We don't hear a great hue and cry across the land from ordinary citizens complaining that their rights are being violated. On the contrary, the most fundamental right of all ---- the right to life ---- is being enhanced. Give The Fans A Break Our hat certainly goes off to all those hard-working people who had anything to do with the organization and running of the 12th annual Canadian Tire Fastball tour- nament held in Port Perry over the civic holiday weekend. With more than a little co-operation from the weatherman, the Tournament was a fine success. There was plenty of exciting action on the fields as the players gave it their best shot to fimish in the money. With no rain delays, the tournament ran right on schedule, and the perfect weather conditions no doubt played a small part in bringing out the large number of spectators. The very fact that the tournament was so well at- tended brought home a fact that was probably obvious to most people present at the final game, or any of the several other games throughout the event. Joe Fowler Park is the pits for spectators when there is more than just a reasonable crowd on hand for a fastball game There are not enough bleacher style seats for fans to see the games in relative comfort. Many fans were forced to stand in the confined areas just behind home plate Getting even a reasonable view of the field from there is tough, unless you're seven feet tall And for those who did manage to find a spot in the bleachers on the first and third base lines, there is an element of danger. The six foot high fence that runs down the lines doesn't offer much protection from those screaming foul balls. It never ceases to amaze me that some poor fan in the stands doesn't suffer injury by get- ting a foul ball smack in the teeth. (Turn to page 6) wos [eS LR i ee [--] | HA { Lu ice IM iii ely sma co. CuATTEW FORT Pe es by Cathy Robb chatterbox HAMMERED AND NAILED Have you ever tried typing with talons? I feel about as graceful as an elephant on a miniature golf course or an eagle in a chicken coop, for pete's sake. I've got these nails, see. Long red fake nails that I had painted on last week. And yah, they look terrific, but talk about useless! Suddenly, everyday tasks are overbearing burdens. Like typing, for example. It takes me three times as long to write anything, what with the ball of my finger hitting one key and the tip of the nail hitting a key three rows higher. So, while you attempt to hit the H key, you also hit the Y key, at the same time, which automatically jams the typewriter and brings the entire story to a screeching halt. It's taken me a half an hour to write this much and I'm numb with the knowledge that I've still got half a dozen stories' to finish before the day is up. But typing isn't my only obstacle to overcome. From the moment I get up in the morning to the time I crawl between the sheets at night, life with my claws is one constant pain. Slowly, however, I am re-learning the simple things I once took for granted. Like doing up my jeans. Without nails, it's a snap. With nails, it's more complicated than the Rubik's cube. While she was in the middle of attaching my new nails, the lady at the salon leaned close and said, 'You know, I did this woman's nails once and after I was finished she went in to use the washroom, and didn't come out for about an hour. Finally I went in to see if she was alright, and there she stood, wrestling with the button on her pants." "Did she get them done up?' I asked, looking down at my own nails with new understanding. "I had to help her,' she said. And giggled. I laughed too. Hollowly. Suddenly I had visions of being stranded in a public washroom for the rest of my life. But there are other, more serious problems associated with long fingernails. DIALING A TELEPHONE You know how many wrong numbers I've connected with in the last few days? Pretty soon Ma Bell will be sending out a search warrant for the goon who's been reaching everyone but who she wants to reach. I'm here to tell ya, reaching out to touch someone isn't as easy as it used to be. BRUSHING MY HAIR. Since holding a hairbrush is such a problem, I've simply given up on the brush and now use my fingernails instead. SIGNING MY NAME. I now have a new signature. It looks nothing like my old one and is barely readable. Maybe now is a good time to become a doctor -- I'd be great writing out undecipherable prescriptions. PICKING UP SMALL OBJECTS. I was out shuck- ing corn on the long weekend, which was't too hard, but you should have seen me trying to pick up corn silk with inch-long fingernails. I also leave bigger tips at restaurants because I am unable to pick up the change. PUTTING ON MAKE-UP. This is nearly impossi- ble. I fear I will either have a naked face or look like a three year old experimenting with her mother's lipstick for the rest of my days. DOING UP MY RUNNING SHOES. I've switched to slip-on pumps. TAKING PICTURES. So much for being a professional-type photographer, my life-long .iream. I am no longer able to load film, press the trigger or ad- just the shutter speed. I think I will invest in a Kodak pocket camera if I am to continue in this business. Lohere are, however, a few good things about long nails. PETTING SMALL ANIMALS. Dogs love a good scratch and will follow me anywhere once I've given them my fingernail treatment. Do you know what it's like to walk down the street with a herd of canines on your heels? People think you've got a pocketful of dog chow or smell like a barn or something. I'm not too sure I like this. THREATENING MUGGERS. Any mugger or rapist who decides he's going to take me on will think twice when I flash him my sharpened claws. Registered with the FBI, they're able to subdue any grown male within seconds. LOOKING GLAMOROUS. Oh yes, I'm a woman of leisure now. Not only do I look like I spend all my time doing nothing, I also do nothing, but spend all my time doing nothing. When you're crippled with ten spikes the way I am, it's all you CAN do. And that's about it. I really can't think of anything else good to say about long, fake nails. And besides, it's been such an effort typing out this Chatterbox, I think I'm going to scream if it takes even one more minute. So if it's not long enough by now, John B., you'll have to add something yourself. Editor's Note: I think you've said it all in this column, Ms. Robb. com Ar ronr N RY cttmmarenl T a oN ii