In the space of a few hours on Saturday, my father saw death from two sides. In the afternoon, near a deserted potato farm to the east of Ontario’s Algonquin Park, he watched with woodsman’s pride as I used the Christmas present he had given me, a Remington .410, to sheer the upper skull off a male partridge, killing the bird instantly.
"Are you a good lawyer, are you honest?” asks the white-haired and moustachioed actor. Playing a wise and principled grandfather in Norman Jewison’s latest film, . . . And Justice for All (see review, Maclean's, Oct. 22), Lee Strasberg gazes at his grandson and awaits a profound response.
This season, the serpent of commercialism has definitely come into its own in the garden of CanLit. With one beady eye fixed on paperback sales, the other on potential film rights, it slithers along, offering big bucks to Canadian innocents.
At the age of 16, Montreal’s latest musical discovery, France Joli, has already been dubbed “the queen of Lolita disco” and her hit song Come to Me is rising with a bullet on every record chart in North America. Success shouldn’t come as a surprise to reedyvoiced Joli—after all, she has been in the business since she was 2. At 11, she dropped out of regular school to pursue her professional career with the full support of her mother, Michelle, a retired teacher who tutored the pubescent Joli while she practised “lip-singing” Barbra Streisand songs.
Why does Maclean's in The “Federalist Separatists” (Sept. 17) persist in calling those of us who do not speak French “English Canadians.” I am a sixth-generation Canadian and there is not a drop of English blood in my veins. Please, if you must differentiate, call us English-speaking Canadians.
"We must save our youth and our nation from the destruction the British monarchy has projected for us,” warns the apocalyptic Lyndon H. LaRouche, chairman of the minuscule USLP, an organization whose bizarre antics are becoming increasingly vociferous.
Since the advent of Muhammad Ali, heavyweight fights have taken on the postures of grand opera and, as in opera, the plot (or the fight itself) is sacrificed for orchestration. In this dubious tradition the John Tate-Gerrie Coetzee World Boxing Association (WBA) heavyweight championship, which highlights two untested spear carriers, could be billed as the Götterdämmerung of hype.
Canada’s third-largest newspaper chain, FP Publications Ltd., wounded and in the red after two long strikes and the recent folding of the 111-year-old Montreal Star (Maclean's, Oct. 8, 1979), is mounting an aggressive comeback. Two ailing newspapers, the Winnipeg Free Press and the Ottawa Journal, have been born again.
In baseball they refer to it as a “suicide squeeze.” It is a term that should be appreciated by Don McDougall, a director of the Toronto Blue Jays, and chairman of the federal task force that, last Monday, tabled its 48-page report calling for the “privatization” of PetroCanada.
The smoke curls down from the lofts of the Player’s cigarette and Beefeater gin ads in the upper regions of Montreal’s storied Forum which has viewed the startling rocket-bursts of Cournoyer, the casual grace of Béliveau and the skittering genius of Lafleur, who moves like a bubble on a stove top, impossible to predict or track.
The story you want is part of the Maclean’s Archives. To access it, log in here or sign up for your free 30-day trial.
Experience anything and everything Maclean's has ever published — over 3,500 issues and 150,000 articles, images and advertisements — since 1905. Browse on your own, or explore our curated collections and timely recommendations.WATCH THIS VIDEO for highlights of everything the Maclean's Archives has to offer.