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11 TI OE NN Ae rT I 151 gm 4 -- PORT PERRY STAR -- Wednesday, May 20, 1987 Editorial Comments Expert Advice It is a step in the right direction that Scugog Township council appears to be relying more heavily on the advice from outside ex- perts as the business of steering this municipality through a period _of unprecedented growth gets increasingly difficult. In recent weeks and months, the council has asked for several | outside reports on such things as recreation, planning and traffic bot- tienecks. And the council has also asked a pfofessional consulting firm to take a long, hard and objective look at the municipality own- ed lands near the Scugog Arena to determine (among other things) if it is indeed feasible to relocate the Fairgrounds there. 'We have heard it suggested that if this particular study had been commissioned a year ago January when the Fairground-School Board-Council controversy was in its infancy, it might very well have . prevented a considerable amount of antagonism in this community. But 20-20 hindsight is a blessing enjoyed by us all, and there is no point crying over what might have been. The fact is that Scugog council has asked for this outside report (by Sesquaig. Inc.) and is also using the services of the Township's planning and engineering consultants Totten, Sims and Hubicki. Just a couple of weeks ago professional planner John McDer- mott made some good points when he told the council that Scugog is growing to the point where proposed developments and subdivi- sions must be considered not just on their individual merits, but also on their impact on the entire community. And he had a nice example to back up his statement. He suggested that the proposed Brooks Farm housing development just north of Port Perry contain a public green belt along the lakefront (rather than building lots). This green . belt (for walking, jogging, cycling, cross country skiing etc.) could eventually swing across Regional Road 2 and hook up with the 60 'acres of recreational land owned by the Township behind Scugog Arena. A great idea. 'The council liked it. In fact, the council liked the idea so much" they have formally requested the Brooks Farm developer to incorporate this into the subdivision plans. It is an ex- ample of planning concepts with more than just the immediate development in mind. More recently, the council has asked for detailed studies S by pro- fessionals on how-to cope with an increasingly difficult traffic problem along Highway 7A east of Water Street. There is a substantial com- mercial development on the drawing boards for that area 'which will add to the traffic problem unless changes are made. The time to make these changes is now, not five years from now. ~ In making these comments, we are not suggesting for one minute that the councillors become "slaves to the consultants' by deman- ding studies on everything that hits the council agenda. That would be unnecessary and cost prohibitive. But with Scugog growing by leaps and bounds, it is orudent "management for the elected reps to make tough development deci- 'sions with as much background information at their disposal as possi ble. Decisions which seem like good ones today have a nasty way of coming back to haunt in the future. The elected reps who sit around the council table each week and make the decisions are not professional planners. And while we have. no qualms in saying that the members of council are dedicated and conscientious with the best interests of the community in mind, there are times when they need an outside opinion. There are times when _ they need an objective analysis of a proposed development which looks at all the ramifications, the short and the long term, the im- mediate impact and the impact on the community as a whole. - Ultimately of course, all final decisions must rest with the seven mermbers who sit around the council table. They were elected to make decisions on behalf of the citizens of this community. By leaning a little more on the professional planners, engineers and consultants, the councillors don't have to make critical decisions in a void of information TO GET 'em ! ' --------- No, my Gucc:s ARE OVER THERE ! BUT JAKE A LOOK AT THIS NIFTY PAIR -- | HAD TO BUY MINE NINE OTHERS Port Perry En STAR § =. 235 QUEEN STREET - PORT PERRY, ONTARIO Phone 985-7383 PO Box90 LOB INO J PETER HVIDSTEN Mente: of me Publisher : 3NIC A Tm nly New paper Assocation Advertising Manag 2 tar Commun ®y Newspaper Assoaahor er Paonia hat supers ~ > - € Ser LIT EY Oy € Port Perry Ontar JB McCLELLAND Editor CATHY OLLFFE News & Features Subscription Rate In Canada $20 00 per year Elsewhere $60 00 per year Single Copy 50° % | Chatterbox by Cathy Olliffe ! THE BLUE JAY PLAYER A pal of mine called me up the other day and had some jnteresting news. Marg Sanders of Scugog Island rang to say she had run into an "old friend" of mine, who now ~plays for the Toronto Blue Jays. "Get outta here," I scoffed. 'I don't know .anyone who plays for the Jays." "Oh yes you do," Marg insisted. ""WHo is it, then?' I asked, curious. "I can't tell you," she said flatly. "But he wants to come in and surprise you." . "Is it Ernie Whitt?" I demanded, because he's the only Jay I've ever met (although he wouldn't know me from a hole in the ground). "No, it's not him," she replied. "Well, then who is it?" Marg wouldn't tell me. All she said is that this fellow knew me some time before I was married and didn't recognize my new last name. "'Somehow you came up in our conversation and I showed him the picture on your column and he said he knew you,"" Marg said. We agreed she could bring in this mystery Jay on Wednesday morning at 11, and for two whole days I wracked my brain trying to figure out who this guy was. Was it someone I went to school with? Was it someone [I met while working for another newspaper' I didn't recall anyone I'd ever met who had any kind of talent with baseball, but you never know who is going to grow up and turn into some kind of a sports hero. 1 asked both Peter Hvidsten and John B. if they knew the names of Canadians on the Jays, . and they could only think of one. That name, Ron Ducey or something, didn't ring a bell at all, but again, you never know. By Wednesday morning, I was really in a fluff, and actually spent an extra hour getting ready for work, sticking make-up on my gub and pouffing my hair. After all, if this person was so- meone 1'd gone to public school with, I didn't want. to appear like a slob when he is now a rich and famous baseball star. At 11 a.m. I was perched uneasily behind my desk, waiting for ominous footsteps up the stairs to my office. My heart was thudding loudly in my chest, and a thin veil of perspiration lined my hands. I lit an umpteenth cigarette, puffed ner- vously and waited. | Finally, at 11:05, I heard someone coming up the stairs. It was Marg, alone." "Well, where is he?' | asked. "Oh, he'll be here any minute," she replied confidently. I went downstairs to fetch Marg a coffee, and she tagged along. Once downstairs, she suggested we wait for him there. "Why can't we & back upstairs?" I asked, thinking it would be much better to meet this per- son in the privacy of my office, rather than in front of everyone in the store. . '"Here's good," is all she said. I shifted from one foot to the other, and . resisted the urge to flee. I really hate running in- to people I haven't seen for awhile, especially mystery people who are way out of my league (league, baseball, get it?). . I "1 hope he remembers how to get here,' ' Marg said, interrupting my reverie. 'I'm just going to take a peek outside and see if I can see him." She walked to the door and I started to follow. "No," she snapped. "You wait here.' Oh, I just couldn't stand this anticipation anymore. My nerves were shot. | "C'mon, Marg, who IS this guy?" I whined. And about five seconds after that sentence left my mouth, the mystery Blue Jay walked through the door. On a leash. On all fours. anting, snuffling and looking obscenely fat in a full Blue Jays uniform. Shirt, shorts, and a perky little cap slung saucily over a pushed: in: face. : "CARPENTER! " I screeched. * 'Carpenter' I looked blankly at Marg, who was doubled over in mirth. : "1 owed you one, Cath," she laughed. I looked back at Carpenter, a fat as butter five month old British Bulldog, owned by Marg. The happy snuffling little pooch nosed his way | through the office like a wild boar, investigating everything in his path. I stared at him only for another moment, before reaching down and giv- ing his thick belly, encased in a Blue Jays outfit, a hearty hug. He returned my affection with a wet, slurp- ing Kiss. "This is the Blue Jay player?" I asked Marg point blank: "'Yep, what do you think?" "Well, he's great .... "I said, trailing off. Despite the fact I truly admire Carpenter, and thought he did look wonderful in his outfit (all jazz- ed up for Participaction Challenge Day, no doubt), . I couldn't help feeling like a balloon someone had just let the.air out of. "This is the Blue Jay player." I repeated. I had spent TWO DAYS, count 'em, TWO DAYS, stewing about who the mystery Jay was. I had fretted and worried and wondered. And worse, I had spent AN HOUR PRIMPING FOR A DOG. ~¥es, | was hosed And it wasn't even April.