Tribute from Zara, Mike's granddaughter Michael was probably one of the most ambiguous people I have ever met. You could never really tell what he was thinking or feeling at any given time. Reading him is like reading old Icelandic language backwards and upside down which is even harder considering that isn’t even a real language. He was always thinking. His mind was so full of material. He used to sew together thoughts and ideas that were presented so beautifully you couldn’t easily disagree with them. However, he never got heated or angry if you failed to agree. He’s really hard to profile onto any standard personality. He could go from having an intellectual discussion to chasing me round the living room jabbing my sides and tickling me, back to sitting down and planning my future, then back up again to tease me and anyone around with one-liners he’d been brewing to perfection for hours. He had the knowledge of an old man with the zest of a child.