Editor, The News:
Re: Paul Henderson coming to Albion (The News, March 25).
“The man who saved Canadian hockey in the 1970s will be in town in April,” states our favourite local newspaper.
I think I can blame reporter Phil Melnychuk for that opening phrase.
I can’t blame Paul Henderson for being proud of his athletic achievements, even if they are being illuminated by the phoney glow of a cheap Walmart light.
And how can I blame Mitch Goldhar, the overtly eager looking fellow standing beside this month’s designated hero/shill.
No, I can’t blame Mr. Goldhar for desperately attempting to use everything and everyone that he can muster in order to arrange a large enough gathering of nodding shopaholics to shout out loud for he and his cronies. After all, they only want to add little old Maple Ridge to the list of small towns that couldn’t believe their luck the day that some hockey playin’ guy from way back when came to visit. And it was all thanks to some altruistic corporation named smart-something-or-other.
What in the world did we ever do to deserve such an honour?
No matter how fantastic a gift this might seem to some, I feel that the dim shine of pseudo-patriotism wielded against us diminishes this otherwise momentous occasion.
Now I know that country bumpkins like us are supposed to be dazzled by the promise of lower prices, even at the cost of lower standards. But surprisingly to some, out here in the country, we know manure when it’s pushed under our noses. We’ve not yet become to Americanized to smell phoney even when it’s giftwrapped with a flag and a hockey jersey, oddly scented with some Cold War cologne.
I’m not saying that there’s anything wrong with America and unbridled capitalism. But if we in Canada are anything, we are not Americans. Unless, of course, we decide that is what we want to be, and I fear, if the price is low enough, some of us just might bite.
But I advise you to consider just what you are biting into, because no matter how much 99-cent ketchup you put on a cow pie, it will ultimately leave a bad taste.
So, now it’s April. It’s nice to see Mr. Henderson again. I hope he stays long enough to hike the Golden Ears mountains, meet the people that make Maple Ridge what it is, and support some of our mom and pop stores.
But I wish he didn’t have to bring his new best friend with him. No hard feelings, Mr. Goldhar, but I think we’ll pass on your offer of lower standards.
Oh, and don’t forget to take your ketchup and that pie you are serving with you.
Grant Baker
Maple Ridge
