A fond farewell to a fallen genius

I can't tell if I talk about them too much. My kids, I mean. Really, I can't - your eyes could be glazed like a donut and I would probably yammer on about them. You might have to fall into a coma, or maybe shake me sternly to get me to realize it's time to stop. Which makes this a rather awkward column, because it's my last one at least, my last one here.