PAUL:	The more things change, the more they stay the same.

	"There's too much violence in hockey";  "baseball players 
	get paid too much";  "the weather this year is terrible";  
	"the weather this year is fantastic";  "it's gonna be a hard 
	winter";  "kids - you can't live with 'em, you can't live 
	without 'em." 

	Par example ...

	Mom - my god, how old is she ?  And she's exactly the same 
	as I remember her when she turned 50 ... or was it 60 ?  She 
	must be 90 now, and still no signs of my inheritance.  Last 
	week I saw her toting a 45 pound puncheon of salt meat up the 
	basement stairs and into the pantry, then throwing it up on 
	top of a barrel of flour.

	Our City Council commissions four separate consultant's reports; 
	they all recommend that council not erect a new hockey rink in 
	the olde towne of St. John's.  Guess what's going up smack dab 
	in the middle of the city now ?  One mayor is as principled as 
	another, it seems. 

	But then, every work-day morning, I get up on Shank's Mare and 
	hoof it down here to the office.  I meander along the rim of the 
	ovoid bowl that is our harbour and through one of the most 
	breath-takingly beautiful cities on the face of the earth, filling 
	my lungs with lightly salted air, nodding and winking and exchanging 
	pleasantries with St. John's cornerboys and nunnyfudgers who share 
	my secret wish with me - please, let this stay the same, too.