My name is Matthew (or Matt), and I am the TaxPoodle. I should state at the outset that I am not an accountant, I do not work for H&R Block® or the Internal Revenue Service, and you really should look elsewhere if what you need is help with your W-2 or filing your 1040. As an undergraduate studying Philosophy, my classmates used to call me Poodle, a nickname to which I objected quite vociferously, admonishing them, “My namesake, St. Matthew, was a tax collector for the Romans, not a Poodle!” I hence became known as – TaxPoodle!
I was born in the coastal town of Santa Monica and raised in the middle-class Los Angeles suburb of Glendale. I am proud to be a native Angeleno, though I now live 2 hours away in Palm Springs.
Once it became necessary for me to leave the warmth and comfort of the academic womb and put my skills to work in return for financial remuneration which would afford me the opportunity to have a life, I quickly found that Philosophy majors were in about as much demand as those who had focused their studies on the Elizabethan poetry of the Tudor period in England. I did eventually land a job that turned into a 17-year career on the administrative side of the entertainment industry. But at the young age of 40, just as I was hitting my stride, I fell ill and nearly died from a rare neurological complication of HIV. You could say that my mid-life crisis was an actual crisis!
After a diagnostic brain surgery, I found myself disabled, in a wheelchair, and unable to work. So I left Los Angeles for good and moved to the desert, because that is what my people do.
I avoid eating in restaurants with pictures of food on the menus (unless they are Thai), detest pickles and candy corn, enjoy plants and gardening, and insist on proper use of the Oxford comma. I know the difference between the possessive its and the contraction it’s as well as when to use whom instead of who, but that doesn’t mean I always get it right or care if I do. And I have a tendency to start sentences with conjunctions, which the people who make rules about these things say is a no-no. I’m not that concerned about it though, because writing is, for me, a process not unlike adjusting a lens – it brings what I am looking at into clearer focus. You’re welcome to look on.
Since moving to the desert, I have written about everything from social issues to sandwiches. I make no claims of any expertise, except about the sandwiches. It may seem didactic, but I’m not trying to convince anyone other than myself of anything. I am an accidental advocate, an armchair activist.
If you find yourself wondering what could possibly be the point to all this writing, I might ask the same about chasing a ball around a lawn with a stick trying to get it into a hole… eighteen times. We are all just whiling away our finite time before the grave, which may sound profound and insightful, but the truth is I just think golf is rather silly — though I have been known to watch it if the remote’s out of reach.