PONY PLAY-OFF winner Is this team conslstin: row, left to right, Denny Parkin, Sheldon Markin, Dary) Zibin, Glen Wilson and Leonard Kinakin. Back row, le! to right, coach Darrell Smith, captoin Randy Potter, Bok ey rata}. Ls vo? Fe ee Te = ae 0 DIVISION league and play-off winner is the Legion team with players, front row, left to right, Cyril Kinakin, Deane Horning, Walter .Wasilenkoff, Ron Weir, Kevin Biln, Gordon Sandrin and Brian Voykin. Middle row, left to right, Greg Gritchin, Jeff Allon, Ken ere David DeRosa, Mi of, front Makelff, ‘Andy Dunn, Shawn Smith, assistant coach Lloyd Wilson and Wayne Gritchin. Missing from photo Grundy and Glen De Blasio. Sherstobitoff, Steven Read and Trevor row, left to eight, xia ar a . MOSQUE er of both the league play and the playoffs is the Oglow team consisting of, front tow, left to right, Billy Gray, Travis Green, Chris San- drin, Pat Johnstone and Jason Hughes. Back row, left to MV coach Perry Sandrin and coach Wally Horning. George. Woodland Park School has adventure playground Teachers, parents and students of Woodland Park Schoo! designed and started construction of an Adventure Playground in March. B.C. Telephone Co., Canadian Cellulose Co. Int- erior Lumber Operations, Castle Tire, West Kootenay Power, Carl Henne, Nick Koot Forest School Dick Wayling solicited the dona- tions of services and mater- ials from local businesses and firms and, together with the help of parents and students; turned them into playground equipment. The Woodland Park School Parent/Teacher Group wishes to publically acknowledge the following for supplying services and materials for the realization of this playground: Products, Harry Killough, John Dunn, Wayne Bird and McGauley Ready Mix Can- erete Co. Ltd. To date, six of the activity centers have been completed (climbing bar, tire jump, swinging bridge, tire wall, tire swings, climbing poles). The balance beams, cars, tunnel and fort with slide bed remain for contin- ued work in the summer and fall months. In addition to providing endless hours of enjoyment for students, the project created a valuable sense of cooperation and unity for those involved. Roshinsky. Back tant coach Tom Biln and Larry Wedding Invitations e Raffle Tickets ° CASTLEGAR NEWS KINNAIRD TRANSFER LTD. L.A. (Tony) Geronozzo, Manager Excavating — Trucking Gravel Products Phone 365-7124 UNION SHOP PATA ANN REPT TATA LIVI STRONG SUPPORT of both been credited for th greatly improved amo Shown here Is one of th coach Tony af LOOKING GOOD will be several Minor Hocke: teams who will be well- dressed next season thanks to sponsors such as Taks Furniture Village, Pulp, Paper & Wood- workers of Canade Local 1, Operating Engineers Local 115, OK Tire, Castl standar layers and coach: ef soccer which h of Division 5. the playe: ix teams In that division with urnitut Villige “tty coach Russil Rilcof. Casi legar t the end of June for the summer and will resume in Septem: ber when players will return to thelr weekly play. evs c MY HEART gocs out to all the young people who have been saving to buy:a home, At today’s interest rates, they have about as much chance to achieve their ambition as I have of being chosen Best Dressed Man of the Year. Let's take a typical exam- ple, and reflect on the grim picture a couple with young children face when they want a home of their own, with a bit of lawn, a little garden, some room for their kids to explore and set some roots, By dint of cutting every corner, pinching every por- tion, Dick and Jane, who have two kids called Jick and Dane, have amassed a total of $5,000 over their five years of wedded bliss. They've been able to do this only by eating cheap food, eschewing all luxuries, such as drinks, steaks, movies. They have taken moonlight. jobs on their holidays to make a few extra - bucks. And of course they have both been working, sending the kids to daycare, for which they have to pay. Their only concession to entertainment, has been a black and white TV, an old car in which they occasional- ly venture forth for a picnic, and extremely careful sex. Mind you, they're not suf- fering. They’re getting enough to eat, unlike those “poor little starving children in China’ or whom my mother reminded me every time 1 clamped my lips tight and refused to eat lumpy oatmeal, (L wonder what happened to those poor little starving fhe:Canadian dream ’ so slowly slipping us by kids in China, anyway. Every time 1 see some little Chinese kids on TV, they look remarkably well-nourished. 1 think they’ve ‘all moved to Biafra .or Danglabeshy or, South America.) At any sate, this is no hor- ror story about a young ‘Canadian couple who can af- ford a twenty-four of. beer only on Saturday. nights. Their- kids are healthy, and reasonably well dressed, thanks to Zellers and Wool- worths and ‘other® philan- thropical Canadian com- panies who buy cheap but sturdy rags in Hong Kong and Taiwan, But I still feel sorry for hopeful hands, they go to the bank or a trust company to borrow the rest. No problem, as the ads said a few years ago. Then comes the ‘crunch, *The bank manager, or the tealtor, or the trust company “bird, welcomes them with the warmth of an undertaker, and fiddles with his pencil, and mutters about the Cana- rdian dollar and interest rates, and. finally gives them a figure. For the $35,000 they still‘need, at 15 per cent a year, their — uh — interest would be $5,250.00, just $250.00 more than they walked in with. To say that Dick and Jane are stunned a Bill Smiley ‘ Dick and Jane. They had a dream, the old Canadian dream of owning your own house and a bit of land, and it’s turning into a nightmare. They don't want to be up there with the Vanderbilts. They’d ‘settle for a very modest home, around $40,000, if there is still a detached house in the coun- try for this price. - 7 ‘Dick would work on im-. provements and Jane would make it warm and lively with her unerring sense of taste. So they decide to take the plunge. With their hard- saved cheque ‘for - $5,000 clutched in one of their would be like saying that Pierre Trudeau is humble. With both their jobs, they gross $22,000. After the Revenue Department is through with them, they'll be lucky to have $18,000. More like $16,000. But that’s, still quite a bit, isn't it? a Take off another $4,000 just to eat and keep clean and maintain the old rusty car. Take off a few hundred for telephone and hydro and. medicare, and all the other deductions from their pay checks, and it’s another $1,000 they haven’t laid hands on. We're down to $11,000. is not Of course, if they have a house, they won't have to pay rent, That will save about $3,600 a year, if they. happen to be living ina slum. But that $3,600 will be gobbled up by taxes, fucl and all the other things that . houses gobble. Then there's: that $5,250.00 a year interest on the mortgage. They are teft with around $5,000 a year to pay for clothes, toothpaste, repairs to everything, dental bills, and all the other flack of modern living. And they still haven't bought a washer and dryer, a stove and refrigerator, and color TV, or a second car, all: the ab- solute necessities for a proud house-owner. Poor devils, They might just make it, if they were prepared to eat porridge and spaghetti for the next twenty years, never take a_ holiday, stayed healthy and each got an extra job. They could always sénd Jick out. babysitting and Dane out shining shoes, but they won’t be ready for another ten years. By that time Dick and Jane will have paid about $50,000 interest on a $40,000 house, and nothing on the principal. + Forget it, Dick and Jane. Take your five thousand, blow it on a good holiday, and go on welfare. You'd’ be better off, and without the stress, would live an extra ten years. So much for the Canadian dream. And | don’t want some accountant writing and refuting my figures. They’re close enough. How to survive 9:30 p.m. dinners they call supper PLAYMOR GRILL Located at Playmor Junction, South Slocat (Follow the Playmor signs) K and Tarrys Woodcraft. Ap- piesiatioe for the support as been expressed by the association. Helping demonstrate the new sweaters are Sean Coulson and Aaron Embree. —News/Mirror Foto ky Donna Embree OPEN DAILY 9:00 a.m. to 8:00 p.m. T i is FREE Estimate: Automatic. Transmission Service Special! $28° INCLUDES: road test, remove pan, visual inspection, clean sump and. screen, adjust bands and link- age, replace pan gasket and fluid. Bonnett’s | ee ie Z SPECIALIST se Attention Men & Boys! For All Seasons It’s Boys & Mens Wear 365-6761 Remember 10% OFF for Cash a FREE Towing within a 20-mile cadius with major repairs. We have Automatic S Transmission Shift Kits In stock. One-Day Service . in most cases 368-3231 P.O. Box 114 Rock Island, Hwy. No.3 Trail Yes, a Castlegar News route is a great way to make money, and to win prizes. It teaches independence and reliability. If you're 12 years or older (or a mature younger person), call our Circulation Department at 365-7266, or send in ‘the handy coupon today. 2 CASTLE@EKCNEWS Every cook has-her-sacrat. —. -.. 6. ws esos. a The one I'd liké to expose-today Is the hostess who serves dinner at 9:30 p.m. ‘and sits there beaming while everyone says, ‘‘Margaret, how do you do It? Everything tastes so good!"’ + At 9:30 at night she could serve mildewed dishtowel with food stains and we'd fight over it. Socla! hours have clearly got out of hand. Those little periods set aside to have a drink and ‘unwind’ have gotten to the point where a guest becomes so relaxed he cannot cut his own meat. (Well, maybe he could if his head weren't resting on It.) 1 don’t know when ‘‘supper’’ became ‘‘dinner’’ in this country . . . but | do know it has created a jet lag among those of us who are used to eating at 5:30 or 6 in the evening. I’m okay untll about 6:30. Then | begin to look for the cracker with the bait on it that | hid under a cocktail napkin In the powder room. By 7 I'm ordeting exotic drinks just for the fruit. By 7:30 | feign interest In the hostess’ children and have been known to shake them down for candy bars. . By 8 I’m approaching the hostess with a plaintive, “Anything | can do to help?”" By 9:15 | have passed the point of no return. My stomach no longer growls. The sliver tray of cheese fluffs no longer titillates me. My clothes hang loosely. My” appetite is enjoying a period of remission. don’t want to Erma. — Bombeck. éat. | Just want to go home and go to sleep. - This is when the hostess announces, ‘‘Dinner is served."* : | never sit down at one of those late-night food orgies that | don't wonder what my digestive processes are thinking. | can just visualize my teeth saying to the salivary glands, ‘‘Wake up, turkeys! I'm sending you a Cornish game hen stuffed with wild rice, fresh asparagus, tossed salad and brandled fruit.’* The salivary glands reply sleeplly, ‘'You've got to be kidding!"’ A The esophagus yells, ‘‘Would you keep it down? I'm trying to get a little sleep."’ - At this point the stomach, liver, pancreas, gall bladder, duodenum, small and large Intestines stir and groan, ‘Is she eating at Margaret's again?"”” ne lying lips say, ‘Margaret, everything tasts to goo : : By PEARL ROWE +» Malibu, Calif., writer. She wrote this for the Los Angeles Times MY MOTHER and I stayed up almost all night once when I was 9. She sat at the kitchen table, labor- ing over a letter that she was writing in Yiddish. (She was unable to write English; even Yiddish was hard for her,) ” Like a restless puppy, Tcircled the kitchen table, sensing that ;something was wrong. My. mother always sent .me- to bed early on school nights. But not that night. “Ma, don't you think I should be in bed by now?" I asked, uncomfortable with the lawless freedom. “I ‘want you should stay up for a while yet. It wouldn't hurt one night.” My four brothers, sis- ter, and father, all older that I, were properly sleep- ing. I took my rag doll by the arm and swung her aroung over my _ head, trying to get some atten- tion. “Dolly's dizzy, Ma.” “Put her head be- tween her legs.” “Could I have some cookies?” She answered without looking up. “Take some out of the box, but close it tight. I think I saw a rat in the pantry.” It was unheard of. Cookies at midnight. I threw in some heavy artil- lery. “They sent Ida home from school today with nits. Teacher said you should wash my hair with Kerosene because I sat next to her.” “That's nice.” “Maaal” I started to cry. we My mother looked up. “It’s snowing outside. The first snow. Look.” “Ma, are you smok- ing?” : “Just for a change. Only for a change.” That was some crazy night. My mother was so different from how I had ever seen her before. I decided it would be a good least she wasn't busy plucking dead chickens or washing laundry on the scrub board. In her pre- occupation she seemed somehow more accessible to me. “Ma, do some people ‘live forever?" Thad reached her. She looked up, “Yes, baby. Special people.” “Am I special?" “Absolutely. Positiv- ely. You're one of the special people who will live forever." Boy, was that a relief. Thad needed to know that for along time. I was sure . glad to finally get it cleared up. My eyelids grew heavy. The prospect of SHE DICTATED silly , words. Words I was too sleepy to understand or spell right. I sounded them out like in school, moving my mouth: as I put them down. My head nodded lower and lower over the paper. When] finished, my mother slid the envelope from under my limp hand. “Did you finish, baby? Did you put all the words down? All the words like I told you?” “Yeah. Now canI goto - bed?” She helped me up the stairs to where my sister, Anna, was. sleeping. I collapsed into bed beside her. I felt my mother cover and kiss me. Finally, I was fast asleep before she left the room. That's all 1 remember from the night my mother seemed to under a gypsy spell. The next morning it was no better. I sat in the kitchen before school, trac- ing stick men on’ the steamy .windows, noticing that my mother and father were all dressed up before breakfast, and it wasn't even'a holiday. ‘ My father said to my mother: “We have to go now, Frieda. You said you wanted to stop at Mr. Moscowitz's grocery.” Before they went out the back door, my mother turned and looked around the room at all six of us time..to sneak in the important question. At kids, her eyes like the lens One of the specialpeople of a camera, taking pic- tures fast, before clouds blocked the sun. My father was carrying a small suit- case. My mother told me living forever had made me. even sleepier. I stretched out on a step and put my doll beneath my head for a. pillow. The next thing I knew, my mother was shaking me awake. “I finished my letter. Now I want you to do something real nice for me. I want you should write something on the envelope in English,” i I was sleepy and cran- ky. “Maaa, I want to go to bed. And I don't like writing. I only like printing bi; : ig “Then print big.” “Can't I go to bed instead? My head's loose on my neck.” “Just do this one thing and you .can go: right upstairs — OK, baby?” My mother led me over to the table and sat me down on the wooden kitchen chair , and pushed the chair way: under the table as far as it would go. She put the envelope down on the worn oilcloth, right under my chin. “I want a red crayon. She rummaged around in a drawer and found one. “But I don’t know what to print, You'll have to tell me.” “Tl tell you exactly.” not to forget to wash my socks for school the next day, and then they were gone. We all stared at the closed door. Nobody had kissed anybody. ‘Nobody had even said goodbye. Everyone was tangled and different from ever before, and everybody was just letting it be that way. My big brother Harry would explain it to me, I thought. He knew everything. He ‘could even mix chemicals in his laboratory in the attic and make real crystal out of milk bottles. I asked him where Ma and Pa had gone. “To the hospital, Ma's having an operation tomor- row.” .it, IT stood, on my toes “Like my tonsils?” “Something like that.” That night I dreamed that I washed my red socks and something in the red dye in the water scared me and I awoke hugging my doll tight, with my thumb in my mouth and my forefinger in my ear. It was Saturday. I didn't need to go to school or wash my socks after all. My father left for the hospital early, and only Morry and I were in the kitchen, Harry was in the attic making gold. I was sitting on the floor playing jacks. Morry was doing his favorite thing: eating. I don't remember about the other kids. THE DOORBELL rang. It was always excit- ing when that happened, because our friends usually just walked in. A-doorbell meant something special, like somebody selling en- cyclopedias or potato peel- ° ers. Morry answered the door. It was a telegram for my father. Morry opened behind him and read, “Your wife Frieda died..." The rest got all blurred up. Morry ran upstairs to the attic. “It's my fault,” I thought to myself. I hadn't asked my mother if she was one of the special people who would never die, like me. That night Mr. Mos- cowitz came over. He look- ed at my father: “Your missus told me to give you this if...” Mr, Moskowitz covered his face with his hand and I could hear him choking and_ sobbing. ;: He handed. my father a thick letter. My father opened it and laid the envelope on the dining-room table. 1 read the big letters printed crookedly in red crayon across the front of the envelope. I sounded the awful words out as I read i : t i Plant parties . By ROGER SIMON {A column in the Chicago Sun-Times.) 1 GOT A CALL FROM A not just any family could go home with any plant. You had to be compatible and give it a good he we and decide who Modern day By STEPHEN KRASHINSKY - (Anexcerpt from an article in The Advocate, the magazine of the Studente’ Law Society at. the University of Toronto. The author is a third-year student at the U of T Faculty of Law.) - ‘THE SEGREGATION OF the study of law from the study of morality is tely in- the meaning of justice? Moral inquiry involves asking what is good, and what constitutes the good society. It transcends an analysis of what is, and compels us to examine ‘what ought to be.. + Above all, one must ask, how can a legal system conceivably he. allegi appropriat:. How en our laws possibly be just u. ss we inquire into she, and respect of 1 rational individual unless it is founded on. prin- ciples of justice and morality? ‘hired gun’? WE ARE FORCED TO ask an alirmingl: i on a lawyer's practice when his onl as a student question: What kind of lawyers will inevitably be produced by a law school which ‘teaches its students that law and morality are not bound together but exist i . of one with legal ethics is in a few lectures in the first months of first year? And after that, study of “real” law begins. LAWYER HAS NO another? What does it mean for society when the practitioners of law do not take morality seriously? What are the effects to others in society. Nor does the lawyer concern himself with the ethics of his client’s aims. He is, indeed, nothing more than a “hired gun” — with all that phrase implies. ; friend the other day inviting me to a plant party. “I don't know any plants who will go out with me,” I said. “Besides, I hear they don't pollinate on the first date.” A plant party, I was haughtily informed, is kind of a Tupperware party without the tups. Instead, people gather around and look at a bunch of plants and decide which one would go best with their Cuisinarts. I ALSO LEARNED THAT would get custody if your marriage broke up., A few years ago, in my very newspaper office, people started bringing little plants in and sitting them down on their desks. They would talk to them and water them from the water fountain and- get very upset when I butted out cigars in their soil. TODAY, THERE ARE very few plants left alive in this office, I am happy to report. Mainly because I would sneak .. their in Jate at night and read them transcripts of city council meet- ings and bore them to death. But due to the i it pitfalls reputable and certified Califor- nia seed company, include deerweed, pigweed, fireweed, and the appalli Bigelo d greed of the American market place, there is now a plant- product even for the likes of me. It is called Weed Seed and it will soon take over the planet. FOR A PALTRY $4.95. the manufacturers of Weed Seed will send you a lump of soil, instruction booklet, and packet of voracious, impossible- to-kill weeds, The weeds, supplied by a THE INSTRUCTIONS DO not indicate if the cheeseweed is Swiss or cheddar. Although the manufactu- rers catition you to plant the weeds only in their own little container, the possibilities for . mischief are endless: YOU CAN SNEAK INTO the carefully tended garden of the old couple down the block and throw four or five handfuls of Bigelo sneezeweed on top o! their roses. 2 Poem for fellow romantics Circulation Dept. CASTLEGAR NEWS Box 3007 Castlegar, B.C. VIN 3H4 Yes. | would like to know more about becoming 9 carrier. Please contact me about a newspaper route, NoMa i655 oes St asec vaiee sees Address... City. cece eee cece eeeeces Phone... “I think Roger is. drastically reducing his credit card interest rates..." JOHN CHARTERS’ Reflections & Action — Reaction Recollections I take a thought — a lump of clay And turn it on the wheel of memory And draw it our, and shape it so, ! With the fingers of my mind, Making a vessel for other thoughts Which also shapens mine. This week I intended telling a kind of true fairy tale to dramatize in some little way a feeling for a way of life which existed right here before we new-comers cluttered things up with our concepts of ‘civilization’. Unfortunately, my back is still not up to the effort of any prolonged strain. However, I have noticed that the river is full of logs and debris again, after our ‘unusual’ weather, all sorts of logs are coming down-stream, getting caught in eddies or up on rocks, and then, after a brief ‘captivity’ take off again to the sea. Tam therefore offering for the kids, and fellow romantics a ‘fun-poem' of just such a log. JASC.. Old Man Log is Gone Old Man Log is gone. Only the white, foaming water, One big rock, and The wind-sound of the river Mars the tranquil morning. He broke away from the log-boom Up the river And was free —. Turning, bouncing, nodding To either bank he came, And was caught By the rocks Of the rapids, To be held high and dry, While the weary weeks passed — The river rose, ' And once again he was free. Bon voyage, Old Man Log, On your journey Down to the sea!