The mind of a child, so poignant and free,
Alive with adventure, enraptured with glee.
Denied of it's essence, restrained in it's quest,
Restricted , retarded, sequestered, suppressed.

Guy walks into a fancy restaurant dressed rather casually, and is informed that a tie is in order. He races out to his car, rummages through the trunk, finds a pair of jumper cables, ties them neatly around his neck, and returns to the restaurant. Once again he is detained and reminded about the tie. He points to the cables around his neck and pleads to be let in. The maitre d' concedes, but not without a stiff warning. " We'll let you in with the cables this time, but you must promise not to START anything!"

Well guess what...I'm about to START something.

I'd like to embark on a journey...a trip of sorts...down the road of the life of an individual very personal and precious to us, his parents.

We will catch you up on 30 years...with stories and anecdotes that will amuse you, entertain you, and quite often, sadden you. Our intention is to balance the past with current daily activities and conversations that will, like they do us, drive u nuts! So here we go.

The Scorekeeper is Born

Call it destiny...call it divine direction...call it whatever you want. But something tells me Philip never had a chance. The night he was born I was supposed to be coaching an adult softball game ( sports was and continues to be a big part of our family's life ). I reluctantly passed to coach my wife in the biggest game of our lives - the birth of our firstborn. I can't remember who won the league game, but Diane and I won big-time that night. For on July 3, 1979, at 9 p.m., Philip James Thiessen - The Scorekeeper _ was born!


"When we remember we are all mad...the mysteries of life disappear and life stands explained." Erma Bombeck





Philip The Grate!


Today Philip, now 30, woke up at the crack of noon, ate a huge bowl of Cheerios, 2 cookies, and a dish of coleslaw for breakfast...poured a glass of juice, downed his meds, ritually brushed his teeth, made sure all his binders were visible and in order...then headed off to sharpen his pencils. Years ago he became obsessed with pencils...not the easy, inexpensive Bic-click kind...but the standard yellow,"old school" HB #2 favourites.

We have 3 sharpening devices( he insists on backup )...an electric, a mounted meat-grinder manual type, and the ever accessible, always reliable, 50 cent hand-held. He needs them all to facilitate his constantly fluctuating pencil inventory...which, when it gets below 60, drives him and everyone else in his world crazy. The introduction of the 'grating' electric sharpener initiated the enforcement years ago of the 11 pm 'sharpening curfew'...which he honours ( the constant humming into the wee hours had the neighbours completely confused ). His obsession for pencils has also made it easy for family and friends to cover off Christmas, birthdays, etc., with relative ease. And newcomers to his world who bring him a pencil immediately become his BFF ( are you listening Paris? ).

You're wondering about the binders? His noisy, 3-ring, paper eating, colour-coded, go-with-him-everywhere, binders...are for keeping scores! Duh!! Hockey...baseball...football...basketball. And of course it would never do to be without a 'sharp' pencil when the need arises to record a score, or ten (in the appropriate binder), which is 24/7/365! So, pencils sharpened, binders lined up on his bed,TSN blaring, a second glass of juice nearby, and he's good to go...The Scorekeeper is in the house! For years we have lightheartedly encouraged him to get out and get a real job (won't be happening)...and his reply has always been the same..."I have a job - scores!"

Can't argue with that logic, Rainman!!