Matt TallboyWho is Matt Tallboy? Is he just a stupid ... nom de plume?He was a son before a father, a boy before an elder. A student, then a teacher, a reader, a writer. Then a student all over again.He looks on others kindly, as he knows, He owes his colour, rhthm and reason to those who've tried before him, The lessons he's learned, the chances he's taken, Opportunities missed, the souls he's kissed, All owed to them... and he remembers, he's been kissed, in return.He's a listener, a learner. Philosopher, philanthropist, raconteur. Golfer.He doesn't forget being hurt or the times of happiness. The rough and the smooth.He knows it's sometimes the little things that matter, and that life, Is the sum of all its parts, though it may come, in fits and starts.The high tide today, will be low tomorrow, but it has to leave its mark.He feels strongly, and thinks long and hard, about what matters.Because it matters.And, there's a left side and a right side to his complex, tiny brain.It feels the beauty, in cold, hard facts. Beholds the colours, the sounds, then adds, subtracts.And for every solution there is an almighty problem.This retired teacher of Mathematics is an author? Well, that's just so cute. He has the powers. He calculates those double meanings. And loves, that ... only ... mathematicians count.He knows, for every problem, every one of them, There is always an elegant, simple, worldly solution. Always.Just think about it, always. For always, think. Read More Read Less
