Thursday 31 July 2014

Sobey's acting like Hurricane Arthur (July 16)

And more jobs bite the dust - thanks, Sobey's

                                                            by Robert LaFrance

            Sobey’s and Perth-Andover, NB were like two ships that passed each other in the night, weren’t they? So whom do we blame for the closing of Foodland after its few short years of existence? Or do we blame anybody?
            A lot of people lost their jobs, in Perth-Andover and across Canada and I’m thinking that all these lives were disrupted because some bean-counter in Toronto, London, or New York looked at a computer screen and said: let’s close those fifty stores in Canada. Perth-Andover? Where’s that? Who cares?
            Of course it is also clear that a certain portion of the blame goes to the people who drove by that Foodland grocery store on Fred Tribe Road on their way to the State of Maine. Some drove to Fort Fairfield and Presque Isle to buy groceries and gas and I’ll guarantee that most of them haven’t seen the connection between their shopping across the border and the employees of Foodland losing their jobs – and they never will, so there’s no need of nagging them about it.
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Hurricane Arthur and another system joined forces early this month to make me miss watching some World Cup Football (soccer) games and I’m not pleased about it. I am also not pleased about the fact that my dear wife had to push trees off the road so we could get our Corolla by. Four trees had fallen across Kintore Road and two across Manse Hill Road.
            That day, Saturday, July 5, we had been uptown to get many errands done before (Post-tropical storm) Arthur hit and then visited my cousin in Victoria Glen Manor nursing home. “Which way do you want to drive home?” I asked, “over Jawbone Mountain or down Highway 105?” She opted for the latter, so we headed east on Beech Glen Road.
            There were no trees down on the road on either side of the mountain (that includes the top if you are a stickler for accuracy) but when we got to Kintore Road a D.T.I. (formerly D.O.T.) crew was just sawing away at one tree; we easily got by there.
            The next blowdown was not so easily dealt with but my wife got out like a trouper and pushed the top aside so I could drive through. The next tree wasn’t quite so simple. "You had better get that one," she said.
            "But dearest," I remonstrated, "you know about my sore elbow. I do not want to injure myself further." Then she had the nerve to ask which elbow I was referring to. "Why this one of course," I said, indicating my right elbow.
            "Wrong," she said. "It was your left elbow you SAID you hurt lifting that Kleenex." Even after I explained that I had hurt the right elbow "at a later point in time" she remained skeptical, but got out to move the top of the tree. She did move it, but it sprang back and pushed her into a roadside brook, but not before I was able to drive past.
Back in the car after I had stopped a ways down the road - I didn't want to risk scratching the car - she called me a few choice names, but had her speech interrupted when we came across yet another tree across the road, this one a medium size poplar. "Better move that and maybe we can get home," I suggested, and ducked. Rolling pins are portable, I learned.
            Eventually we did get home via Kincardine Road, the one past Burns Hall, and both vowed to stay home until the windstorm was done. Then I remembered we had not  picked up the mail. "You better walk rather than taking the car," I suggested, and that’s how I ended up in this hospital bed.
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            I mentioned World Cup Soccer whose championship game was played three days ago. It had been going on for a month and I watched every game I could - very enjoyable, but like hockey, North American football, cricket, and curling, you have to know the rules before you can enjoy it.
            Of course there are people who insult soccer all over the map, but they do not  understand the game. They think it should be about getting goals, but we soccer nuts know it is the play.
            My son Kinley and I watch as much European soccer as we can without be hauled away in a white van, and we agree on the best game we have ever seen. It was a Champions League game between Arsenal (London, England) and Real Madrid (Spain). The final score was 0-0, but it was the best demonstration of passing, goalkeeping, shooting and just plain great playing that we have ever seen.

            I do not think you will ever get a hockey fan to say that about one of their games.
                                                   -end-

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