For Blackfly Gazette July 25/18
NOTES FROM THE SCOTCH COLONY
Tobique Narrows Dam road driveable now?
by Robert LaFrance
It seems to
me that Tobique Narrows dam roadway (Highway 105) has been either closed or
mightily inconvenient for something like 18 years. I could be wrong.
For the
past five years or so it has either been closed, down to one lane, half-closed
with a ‘Bailey Bridge’ type detour, or accessible after waiting six or seven
minutes at a traffic light. And I think there’s even more work to be done on it
down the road, so to speak.
All this
road work and rebuilding of the dam’s underpinnings started because during an
inspection workers noted that it was crumbling underneath and should be closed
that afternoon. Heavy trucks were immediately banned (translation: only about
73% of trucks still went over the damn road – I mean dam road) and the roadway
was closed soon afterward.
People from
Tobique First Nation, Tilley and Rowena, if they wanted to go to Perth-Andover,
had to go via Arthurette or Brooks Bridge, unless that bridge’s scary deck
persuaded them to go via Grand Falls. Not that they didn’t enjoy a nice tour of
the countryside, but many would have no doubt preferred a more direct route.
Also, several people commented to me that they didn’t feel completely safe
following a 40,000 pound tractor-trailer across Brooks Bridge when the load
limit was – and is – something like one fifth of that.
As far as I
know, these days Tobique Narrows Dam roadway is open both directions, without
traffic lights and everybody is rather pleased – until it’s closed again next
year, next week, or tomorrow.
Born in
1948, I can just barely remember when that damn (dam, excuse me) was installed
with its curious turn at the north end, just in case drivers needed a
challenge. My father, Fred LaFrance, hauled gravel to help build the dam and
even bought a new dump truck, a 1952 International, to do the job. Of course
when the Liberal government yielded to a Conservative one in 1952 he, being a
Liberal, lost his job, but he was philosophical about it. “%$#(*&^%$#,”
I remember his saying philosophically.
A
pre-schooler at the time, I was there when Canadian Army demolition experts
(the best kind) blew up the bridge that we used to cross to get to town.
Sitting beside me well back from the explosion, my Uncle Tom, told me it was
going to be loud. I saw the old bridge get blasted in all directions and could
see he had been wrong – it was silent. I took my hands away from my ears. Then
the sound wave arrived. I went, as the phrase goes, ass over teakettle into the
nearby bushes. Next time my Uncle Tom (1902-1966) tells me to hold my hands
over my ears and keep them there I will listen more carefully. If I can hear
him.
************
Going from
1953 explosions to today’s computer problems (I couldn’t figure out a way to
make that transition), I received a phone call this morning at 7:06 and it was
somebody concerned about my computer’s health.
“Hello, is
this Monsewer LaFrance?” said a voice whose accent reminded me of my years in
India. “This is the Windows Technical Department. I am calling about a problem
with your computer. We have detected a virus that could result in serious
trouble when you go online.” Click.
Now for a
little background explanation. For several Robbie Burns Night shows the
legendary actress and comedienne Mavis Smith, who lives just down the road, did
a sketch on the subject of telemarketers. Her phone would ring and it would be
‘Computer Services’ or some such ersatz foolishness. Or it would be someone
from Nigeria telling her she had just inherited $50 million, except that she
needed to send $487 to get the paperwork done.
The voice
on the phone would go into its spiel for most of a minute; Mavis would say a
few things that almost sounded as if she were buying it. Perhaps the voice
would suggest there was a problem with Windows and then Mavis would ask if they
thought it was serious and the person would assure her that if it wasn’t fixed
immediately all of eastern Canada would sink into the Atlantic.
Finally
Mavis might say something like: “My windows are fine; my grandson cleans and washes them twice a year.” Then
there would a long pause before the voice said:
“What kind
of a computer do you have Mrs. Smith?”
Mavis would
answer: “Oh, I don’t have a computer.” How I pity the poor telemarketer who
calls her, even today although she has retired from the stage.
*****************
I can’t
seem to get through a column without saying something about Donald Trump. After
his recent meeting in Helsinki with Russian President Vladimar Putin I have
settled on a name for Trump: Putin’s (female dog). I would say ‘bitch’ but this
is a family newspaper.
END
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