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w w w . o a kv ill eb ea ve r.c o m O A KV IL LE B EA V ER Th ur sd ay , A ug us t 1 9, 2 01 0 6 THE OAKVILLE BEAVER IS PROUD OFFICIAL MEDIA SPONSOR FOR: RECOGNIZED FOR EXCELLENCE BY: 467 Speers Rd., Oakville Ont. L6K 3S4 (905) 845-3824 Fax: 337-5571 Classified Advertising: 905-632-4440 Circulation: 845-9742 The Oakville Beaver The Oakville Beaver is a member of the Ontario Press Council.The council is located at 80 Gould St.,Suite 206,Toronto,Ont.,M5B 2M7.Phone (416) 340-1981.Advertising is accepted on the condition that,in the event of a typographical error,that portion of advertising space occupied by the erroneous item,together with a reasonable allowance for signature,will not be charged for,but the balance of the advertisement will be paid for at the applicable rate.The publisher reserves the right to categorize advertisements or decline.Editorial and adv rtising content of the Oakville Beaver is protected by copyright. Unauthorized use is prohibited. United Way of Oakville Ontario Community Newspapers Association Canadian Community Newspapers Association Suburban Newspapers of America NEIL OLIVER Vice-President and Group Publisher, Metroland West DAVID HARVEY Regional General Manager JILL DAVIS Editor in Chief ROD JERRED Managing Editor DANIEL BAIRD Advertising Director RIZIERO VERTOLLI Photography Director SANDY PARE Business Manager MARK DILLS Director of Production MANUEL GARCIA Production Manager CHARLENE HALL Director of Distribution SARAH MCSWEENEY Circ. Manager WEBSITE oakvillebeaver.com We were cajoled (if not actually conned) into diningat a trendy (read: expensive) restaurant where, the pre-vious evening, President Barack Obama had celebrated his 49th birthday with close friends and, I swear, the essence of Oprah was still lingering in the air. We were hammered by heat and crushed by crowds of sweaty souls at a music festival. We were practically fed pizza by two Gossip Girl cast members. Oh, and our middle son managed to get himself locked out of Wrigley Field when he slipped out of the Cubs lair for a smoke (thankfully, he managed to talk himself back into the park). It was my third sortie to Chicago. Three years ago, I took our sons on a bonding trip to catch the Cubs and attend Lollapalooza, the three-day music festival that always leaves crit- ics raving. We fell head-over-heels in love with the city, everything from the activities and energy to the sights and sounds. The following year we returned, full family in tow, to prove Jerry Seinfeld wrong: there really is such a thing as fun for the whole family. My wife and daughter were seduced by the city my wife fell for the quirky neighborhood shopping districts while my daughter loved the Magnificent Miles big-brand shopping shrines. This year, again lured by the lineup at Lolla and the opportunity to create a whole new Windy City itinerary from Second City to a morning-long bike ride along the waterfront we wondered whether Chicagos spell would wane, whether our offspring would be bored third time around. Not a chance. Upon arriving, we hit the ground running and never stopped until it was time to head home. The Graham Elliot Restaurant was a bistronomic experience with its creative cuisine, relaxed atmosphere and celebrity guest list (Oprah, the President, me). Our eldest had scoped out the eatery and said entr were pricey, but not outrageous. Until our server recommended we select two or three of the small-por- tioned items off the entrlist. Ah, no problem, well just secure another mortgage. Lolla was Lolla. Only theyve increased the venue size to accommodate more people. Its an ill-advised move: overcrowding made it hard to get within a country mile of some bands. Still, the festival rocks. Oh, and when my wife and I, wandering on our own, discovered Gossip Girls Ed Westwick and Jessica Szohr socializing at a renowned pizza place in the park, we took just enough pictures to make our daughter green with envy. Yeah, it was a wild and wonderful family trip, typically marked by mayhem, madness, and the odd profound philosophical moment. On the final day before returning home, I was sitting on a bench on a busy street, soaking up the sun, people watching, and periodically perusing John Irvings Last Night In Twisted River when a homeless man approached and asked through twist- ed teeth and an apologetic smile if he could bum a cigarette. I told him, sorry, I dont smoke. He took a few steps away, then turned and incongruously asked: Whats the book about? About? Its John Irving, I thought, its about practically everything. I told the man, its about life. He seemed satisfied. But as he was walking away, I saw him shake his head and I heard him mutter: Whats life about? Hmmm. Maybe lifes about losing yourself (and finding your- self) in a place you could seriously imagine calling home. Andy Juniper can be visited at www.strangledeggs.com, con- tacted at ajjuniper@gmail.com, or followed at www.twitter.com/thesportjesters. Dining in Chicago with the essence of Oprah still in the air Andy Juniper PHOTO BY LAURA SHARP SPOTTED AT THE LAKE: Oakville sharpshooter Laura Sharp snapped this photo of one in a family of four living in Lakeside Park at Lake Ontario. Sharp was at the park with her son Ewan, 4, when they spotted the critter.At first she thought it was an otter. Now she thinks it may be a mink. Shes happy to hear from anyone who may know what it is definitely. She said, Its driving me crazy. ATHENAAward Media Group Ltd. The Oakville Beaver is a division of Commentary Guest Columnist Abiochemistry student, a varsity athlete, a lifeguard,and even an entrepreneur through OntariosSummer Company Program, life was pretty hectic at 18. I would spend my days in class, my evenings with friends and my nights working for Residence Life on cam- pus. Every day was fun and busy as the last and I liked it. That was until everything changed. It was at the beginning of my second year at university that I first began to show symptoms. The pain would shoot through my abdomen, so intense it would keep me up at night and force me to stay there during the day. Sometimes it was too much to even stand upright. I saw three different doctors, telling me three different stories. I was told I had to just eat healthier, more probiotics. Then I was told it was stress from university due dates and deadlines, it was normal. Then finally I was sent to a gastroenterologist. Being away at university, I went alone to get colonoscopies and barium tests. It was just days before my 20th birthday I was diagnosed with Crohns Disease. For me, the diagnosis was great. I had never heard of Crohns Disease before, but it didnt matter. I had answers and soon I would have a cure. Of course, soon after I discovered, this wasnt the caseat all. I soon found out that all a diagnosis of Crohns Disease meant was that it was chronic and incur- able. If news like that doesnt knock you down, I dont know what can. Continuous blood tests, specialist visits and drug cocktails that were continu- ously changed until they worked sure took a toll. It was hard enough to make it to a class, let alone study. Crohns Disease took my old life. If that doesnt sound bad enough, Crohns Disease, for a woman who was almost 20, is filled with stigma. It isnt glamorous to speak about a disease under the umbrella of Inflammatory Bowel Disease (IBD). I had a choice. I could let this disease overturn me. Speak nothing of it, be in isolation and cross my fingers that the next med cocktail would work better than the last, or I could embark on a journey for change. Upon yet another visit to the specialist, I saw a pamphlet for the Crohns and Stephanie Syer, Oakville resident Stephanie Syer Diagnosis was a shock See Committed page 8