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6- The Oakville Beaver Weekend, Saturday June 24, 2006 Commentary The Oakville Beaver 467 Speers Rd., Oakville Ont. L6K 3S4 (905) 845-3824 Fax: 337-5567 Classified Advertising: 845-3824, ext. 224 Circulation: 845-9742 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 advertising content of the Oakville Beaver is protected by copyright. Unauthorized use is prohibited. Guest Columnist Beginning of the end Ainsley MacIntyre Oakville high school student really wish I had something deeply profound or philosophical to open this space with. After all, as I have mentioned here on more than one occasion, I have always had something of a preoccupation with beginnings Ainsley MacIntyre and endings. Such events, from the mundane to the lifechanging, perpetually overwhelm me with how monumental they seem. I've often thought that this fixation has somehow separated me from my friends. The heavy significance I tend to place on "firsts" and especially "lasts" is an annoying trait for a friend to possess, I'm sure. It can't be easy conversing with someone who behaves as though the apocalypse were scheduled for tomorrow. However, as of late I have not felt quite so isolated from everyone. There's a change in the air that I can't quite put my finger on. It surely isn't that I've learned to look at life with more of a laissez-fair attitude; as I'm fairly certain that the four horsemen were standing behind me at Starbucks this morning. No, it would seem to me that my nostalgic melancholy is -- catching? Indeed, with exam season upon us, and graduation imminent, it seems that I'm not the only one filled with the bitter-sweetness of endings. As far as I'm concerned, high school graduation is the last-iest of lasts. Okay, we're not dying, or even leaving home (at least, not yet), but for most of us, it's the biggest event of our lives so far. This is the "conclusion of one of life's many chapters." "The end of the beginning." And there's a reason that phrases such as these are considered clichés ­ because as groan-worthy as they are, they're also (maybe, just a little bit) true. I wrote an exam earlier today. My very last high school exam. Ever. Yeah, so it's not a dramatic event, like graduation, but it's an ending nonetheless. And as I was writing, the thought struck me that this was the last time I'd ever sit in a Holy Trinity desk. There was something so heartbreakingly quiet about that fact, that I gazed around the classroom and I realized something else: this was the last time I'd probably see most of these people. Sure, the graduation ceremony and the prom have yet to arrive, but both those events will most likely be a whirlwind of hair appointments and dresses and suits and "smile!" that there simply will not be time for these calm moments of awareness. I know that next year, when everyone is off at their respective universities, that I will miss my friends incredibly. What I don't think I've grasped quite yet is how much I'm also going to miss those people who aren't my friends. Those people with whom I share no lasting bond, but who've always just been there. I guess what I mean is, that I'll miss the comfort and stability that exists in high school, where you can know who somebody is, without really knowing them at all. So yeah, this is an end. And, I maintain, the biggest ending that has occurred in my life thus far. Door closing, page turning, direction changing, what have you; this is it. True, I'm probably a bit of a freak for getting all weepy when I emptied out my locker, but I've always been this way and will most likely continue along in this vein. I am glad, however, that my heightened sentimentality is no longer something that divides me from my friends, but rather something that we have in common. I expect graduation will be full of smiles and tears, miss-yous and goodbyes, and maybe, just maybe one quiet moment to scan all of the faces we'll never see again, and appreciate the four years we've had with them. What a "deeply profound and philosophical" ending that would be. IAN OLIVER Publisher NEIL OLIVER Associate Publisher TERI CASAS Business Manager JILL DAVIS Editor in Chief MANUEL GARCIA Production Manager KELLY MONTAGUE Advertising Director RIZIERO VERTOLLI Photography Director CHARLENE HALL Director of Distribution ROD JERRED Managing Editor WEBSITE oakvillebeaver.com Metroland Printing, Publishing & Distributing Ltd., includes: Ajax/Pickering News Advertiser, Alliston Herald/Courier, Arthur Enterprise News, Barrie Advance, Caledon Enterprise, Brampton Guardian, Burlington Post, Burlington Shopping News, City Parent, Collingwood/Wasaga Connection, East York Mirror, Erin Advocate/Country Routes, Etobicoke Guardian, Flamborough Review, Georgetown Independent/Acton Free Press, Harriston Review, Huronia Business Times, Lindsay This Week, Markham Economist & Sun, Midland/Penetanguishine Mirror, Milton Canadian Champion, Milton Shopping News, Mississauga Business Times, Mississauga News, Napanee Guide, Newmarket/Aurora Era-Banner, Northumberland News, North York Mirror, Oakville Beaver, Oakville Shopping News, Oldtimers Hockey News, Orillia Today, Oshawa/Whitby/Clarington Port Perry This Week, Owen Sound Tribune, Palmerston Observer, Peterborough This Week, Picton County Guide, Richmond Hill/Thornhill/Vaughan Liberal, Scarborough Mirror, Stouffville/Uxbridge Tribune, Forever Young, City of York Guardian I RECOGNIZED FOR EXCELLENCE BY: Ontario Community Newspapers Association Canadian Community Newspapers Association Suburban Newspapers of America THE OAKVILLE BEAVER IS PROUD OFFICIAL MEDIA SPONSOR FOR: ATHENA Awards United Way of Oakville TV AUCTION Nerves fraying as the end-of-school countdown continues T wo down, one to go. Around here, the end-of-school countdown has been on in earnest seemingly forever. More than two months ago we were in receipt of phone calls and emails from our eldest noting (and gloating) that his second year of university was nearly over. Next thing we knew, he was on our doorstep seeking asylum and asking for (indeed, expecting) lodgings and laundry service, food and a little fuel for the car he planned on borrowing from us for the summer whilst toiling for his momma's PR company. Just this week, our second son was heard singing ­ off-key, of course, like a bullfrog croaking for companionship ­ Alice Cooper's 1972 standard, School's Out. Alas, he'd completed Grade 10 and had only a few exams standing between him and a sweet summer of serious loafing. Then there's the baby of the family, our tyke who is all of 10 precious and precocious years of age. About a month ago she created cuter-than-cute cue-cards to help her count down the days until she will be sprung from school. A card for every day (to be trashed at day's end). What's with the cards? I questioned. Seriously, the kid loves all aspects of school from the educational to the social. But there she was meticulously plotting the demise of each and every day that was keeping her from her anxiously awaited summer of sincere sloth. "I need," she matter-of-factly confessed, "some time to chill." Right. And I need more grey hair. All said, however, I can't really fault my children for their desires to be done with school and to be starting summer holidays, for I was young once and I know the allure summer has on students. And, like Andy Juniper my kids, I've had more than my fill of this school year. One morning last week I realized the degree to which I've had my fill when my daughter rushed into the kitchen with her recorder in hand. For the uninitiated, a recorder is an instrument from the flute family that school kids are taught to play with ample volume, but not a ton of tunefulness. When our daughter plays, we cover our ears, and the dogs howl for mercy. But I digress. Into the kitchen she ran -- with our deadline to get out the door and en route to school looming -- and she announced: "I have to write a song! A whole song! I forgot and it's due!" I could have calmly told her that Yesterday, the most recorded song in popular music history was written in a matter of minutes, but, instead, I blew a fuse, spouting on about doing homework the night before rather than the morning of. Ten seconds into this rant, I stopped, painfully aware that I'd lost it: my perspective, my composure, hell ­ my vaunted cool! But it wasn't just this incident that made me lose it. It was a culmination of incidents combined with the fact that I'm oh so tired: tired of having to brandish a whip just to get the offspring out the door in the morning, tired of having to coerce kids into doing homework, tired of the whole routine of school, in which we've all been mired for nine long months. Yes, it's time for a break. Time for a refreshing makeover of our routine. Time to relax and regenerate. Time to do a little bit of nothing. Time to rush nowhere. Yeah, in all honesty, it isn't just the kids clamouring for summer holidays. Five more days until our youngest is freed, and you know what? I can hardly wait. Andy Juniper can be visited at his Web site, www.strangledeggs.com, or contacted at ajuniper@strangledeggs.com.