Whatever Happened To Leopard Man?

Back when I was sixteen years old I was a regular climber at "The Front" gym in South Salt Lake. The Front's patrons were an amalgamation of squeaky clean Mormons, super mellow potheads, gothic social outcasts, and just about anyone in between. This being the case, I got to climb with some really interesting people. There was Devon, an emo/semi-goth who loved animae, slurpees, and listening to the Gorillaz. There was Josh, a 17 year old literal hunchback, who was strong as an ox, had huge dreads, and would drink Coke and Vodka from a two liter bottle. And then there was Leopard Man.

Leopard Man was tattooed from head to toe with green tinged leopard spots. When I say head to toe I mean head to toe- There wasn't an inch on his exposed body that wasn't made to look like a bizarrely colored predator. It didn't stop with the skin, either. He had each of his canine teeth extended so that his mouth replicated that of a wild cat.

The funny thing was that Leopard Man acted nothing like what you'd expect a Leopard Man to act like. To be fair, I am guessing very few people have a predisposition for what a Leopard Man should act like. Clearly anyone willing to undergo hundreds of hours and thousands of dollars of physical alteration to look like a murky green jungle cat is someone who goes beyond the pale of most of our understanding. Even so, I think it is fair to say few would expect the pleasant, soft spoken, encouraging, and slightly bashful person that Leopard Man turned out to be.

Leopard Man just so happened to climb right at my ability level and almost by accident, we started climbing together. It turned out Leopard Man was a lot of fun to climb with. He was always in a good mood, loved giving beta (climber jargon for advice), and I really liked the fact that he was a Leopard Man. If you are into juxtaposition, I think you can also appreciate the visual of a squeaky clean, short haired, pierce-less tattoo-less, pre-LDS missionary swapping stories and advice with a Leopard Man. We must have looked so strange to anyone who walked into the gym.

Unfortunately, Leopard Man's and my friendship was short lived. Shortly after I started climbing with Leopard Man, I got a job working at a climbing gym close to my home. I stopped frequenting The Front, and lost track of Leopard Man all together.

Why am I posting this blog? Just this last week I started wondering about Leopard Man. I wondered what happened to him. Who does Leopard Man hang out with? Does he have a Leopard girlfriend, or even Leopard kids? What does Leopard Man do for work? Does he have a serious job and wear a suit? Does a recession affect Leopard Man harder than the rest of us? I don't know the answers to these questions, but it'd sure be fun to see what happened to the guy. So if you come across this blog, Leopard Man, shoot me a line, and maybe we can get a day of climbing in for old time's sake.

"2'zies and n'zies"

In a world with more than 6 billion people it is just about impossible to be truly unique. Chances are a million people like the exact same music as me, a half a million like all the same sports*, a quarter million people are economists or economists in training, and a hundred thousand wear the exact same clothes. Even my most unique and personal characteristics seem to be shared by hundreds, if not thousands, of people.

It occurred to me this week, however, that there might be one trait that is absolutely 100% unique to me. It is a bizarre condition that I affectionately call "2'zies and n'zies."

What is "2'zies and n'zies" ?

"2'zies and n'zies" is the extremely rare condition where, at random, one writes a "2" in place of an "n" and vice versa. No other letters or numbers are swapped. No confusion is registered in reading. In spite of the victim's acute awareness of the tendency, the victim continually persists in writing one in place of the other.

Does this really happen?

On Thursday I was going through my Micro Economics notebook and discovered I had labeled a page "Class 2otes 9-16." This kind of stuff happens all the time. And here lies the rub- I am a graduate student in economics doing a lot of mathematics. Not a lot of numbers show up in my math, but the number that invariably shows up, of course, is 2. As far as the letters go, naturally "n" shows up more than any other letter, save possibly X.**

This has a real effect. I miss problems that are completely right in my mind, but become wrong when pen hits paper. And I just take it. And I should. I can hear the ridiculousness of it all in my mind if I were ever to take this issue head on.

Rich: I know it says "n" but I meant to write "2"

Instructor: Well, it clearly says "2" so I can't give you credit

Rich: But I have this thing, you know, "2'zies and n'zies" that makes me randomly switch 2's and n's. I can't control it.

Instructor: uh huh

Rich: never mind, its cool

So this is my plight. Then again, this might not be such a bad thing. So I may miss points on the occasional test or homework assignment, but it is a small price to pay. Not many people will ever get something that is uniquely theirs. So what if my thing is switching 2's and n's?

Song of the day- Miike Snow- Black & Blue

*with the exception of Steel McRad, of course

**A gold star to goes to the first person to catch the super lame math joke in this sentence.

*for Tyler

Rocking Grad School Harder than Tim Layton

(picture of me at that school I go to. Notice that it is not sunny. Sunny doesn't really happen much in Ithaca)
Apology-

I have been unbearably slack in my blogging as of late. Is it because I've already put in more work this semester than I did in, well, my entire senior year at the Brigham Young? Is it because I now own an iPhone and have spent the last month basking in its awesomeness? Is it because I actually forgot that I had a blog for several weeks? No one knows, and no one can know. Not even science. But whatever the reason is I apologize and am returning to my post.

Grad School is a pretty great place for kids that are into that sort of thing-

For any mentors, friend's parents (I know of at least one friend's Mom who reads this blog), or overly concerned peers: breathe a sigh of relief.

I am loving grad school.

Really.

Turns out Cornell is a pretty awesome place for kids that like learning lots of random stuff. I am that kind of kid. Cornell emphasizes a lot of interdisciplinary education, which is really cool. At the moment I am taking classes/attending seminars in psychology, economics, being mormon, applied economics, and policy analysis. The exposure to this eclectic selection of subjects is keeping life really fresh and interesting.

I am also set up working for some really fantastic professors. I am doing both TA work and research, which is not only paying the bills, but also adding a lot to my experience. Suffice it to say that I definitely feel like I am in the right place.

areg lnw exp exp2 school female computer if year==1979, a(occ)

(I thought I was pasting something else, and I was about to delete it. But what you know what? It's staying. And it's for you, LOSE. Eat your hearts out.)

Rocking Grad School Harder than Tim Layton: AKA putting my pride to work.

Diologue-

Rich: I heard some guy saying he went three days without eating solid food for 72 hours. That is crazy.

Johnny: I could to do it.

Rich: No way. I am calling you out on this one.

Johnny: I am starting right after we're done eating. No solid food for 3 days.

3 days go by

Johnny: Finally! I made it

Rich: Dammit! Okay I am starting right now. 3 days no solid food.

3 days go by

Rich: Aw, I am so hungry! I can't believe I did that. Johnny, why the hell did we do this?

Johnny: I have no idea.

What was the point of this story? Well point one is that Johnny and I both obviously have some extremely irrational pride. Point two is that any power that is strong enough to make two grown men fast for 3 days straight is a power to be reckoned with.

My Plan: To harness this power. So here's how it's going to work. First I make an audacious claim.

A Claim Like Such As : I am going to put in 12 hours a day into grad work. And if Tim Layton ends up putting more in, I will top it.

Second, I make it to a bunch of people who will ask me if I actually did it, or just caved like a pansy.

Check.

Third, I work tirelessly for the next eight months. Not because I want to pass the qualifiers, keep my assistantship, or line myself up to work for the right professor. No, each of these reasons pale in comparison to the real reason. Why will I do this? Because I am too prideful not to. And I might just go 4 days without eating solid food, just because I can.

And yes, I will rock grad school harder than Tim Layton. My Pride won't let me not.

editors note: you can find Timothy's retort at http://tlaytonblog.blogspot.com/2009/09/rich-patterson-its-on.html

Fitting in, in Ithaca

I recently moved across the country to do some research/grad school prep out here at Cornell. Here's the story.

The Drive

The United States of America is a big country. Really big. This was my first time driving across the country, and it is exhausting. Luckily, my awesome Dad drove out with me. I haven't had a chance to talk with him in that depth in a long time, and it was really cool.

The Work

Before I got here, I was thought that I would be slapped with a huge and tedious data entry project that would take me the rest of the summer. I wondered what else they would do with a pre-grad research assistant. Thank Heavens I was completely wrong. Instead, I have been put in charge of running the statistics for a bunch of food behavior experiments.

Have you wondered why you eat as much as you eat? What makes you choose the foods you eat? Or what makes you think something tastes good? The answers are really quirky and interesting, and it is my job to see how the data answers these questions. (really fun for an economist, if this sounds awful to you)

Fitting In

I figured the east coast, Ivy League scene would be a bit different, but I didn't know how different. One of the things I noticed when I got out here was that no one was dressed like me. At first I kind of brushed it aside. My sample size wasn't huge and it could've just been that I hadn't seen enough people. But after three days without seeing anyone, I started to wonder if I was going to be the odd man out here.

Finally on day 5 I saw a guy walking down the sidewalk who was dressed like me. And next to him there was another guy dressed just like him. "Great, I am not alone" I thought. And just as I start to feel relieved, Guy 1 reaches for Guy 2's hand, smiles, and furtively whispers something into his ear.

I am Rich Patterson and I am fitting in, in Ithaca

Tip of the Hat, Wag of the Finger

Tip of the Hat-Summer BBQ’s

Is there anything better? Only a few weeks into the summer, and already I have taken part in some amazing barbecues. Chilling, eating, chatting, listening to music, and basking in the warmth. Salmon, Chicken, Carne Asada, Gourmet Hamburgers, and Grilled Pineapple? For Real! I can’t tell you how much I enjoy these events. Shout outs go to Devin, Judd, Tim, and Brooke for making this biz come together. Lets keep these going.

Tip of the Hat Street Hockey 2009

In the words of Mike Anderson “I have seen you clowns doing your street hockey thing all the time. When you said you were bringing it back, I didn’t think you meant it.”

Oh yeah, we meant it. And it has been AWESOME. Seriously, resurrecting street hockey time has been one of the best ideas we’ve had in a long time. Ridiculous fun. For those fools who haven’t gotten wise yet, it is time to lace up those skates and join the revolution.

Wag of the finger-Regency Pool

Regency Pool, I had nothing against you until last Saturday, but wow, did I have a bad experience.

If you have ever been to the Regency Pool, you know it has a really small enclosure. Add a beautiful hot and sunny day (like last Saturday) and it gets downright crowded. Which really isn’t that bad. Well, not that bad until you add two big loafs chasing each other, yelling, and trying to wrestle each other to the ground. And I guess I could have even dealt with that, except for the things that happened next.

So here I was sitting back at the side of the pool trying to relax and ignore these two morons, when the first one bumps into my shoulder and the second one stomps on my hand. When you start trampling strangers, you have crossed a line. And when you do, it’s probably a good idea to stop and apologize. Did these guys do anything of the sorts? Of course not. Fail.

As if, trampling strangers was not enough, these guys start throwing girls into the pool. I say throw, but awkwardly groping and grappling these poor girls into the pool is probably a much more accurate description. And these girls were not girls that wanted to go in the pool. The looks painted on these girls faces looked a whole lot more like “I am creeped out and really annoyed” than “This is fun and I really like these guys.”

And again, as if throwing reluctant girls into the pool wasn’t enough, these guys cheered every time they got a girl in the pool. Really?!? Each of these girls weighed at least ­50lbs less than either of these guys. I mean, How accomplished could’ve they really felt?

Oh yeah, and lets not forget that this is an extremely crowded swimming pool. When a couple of guys splash the strangers around the pool with reluctant women missiles, at first it is surprising. When it happens again, it is annoying. When it doesn’t stop, it is aggravating. I realize that this is a fairly negative rant, but I bet there are several people out there that can totally relate. Plus, these guys totally harshed my mellow.

As long as I am on the topic of harshing my mellow, I have to mention the girl laying on the out on the lawn chair at my 9 o’clock. Girl on lawn chair, you really need to exercise better swimsuit management. True, the pool was a pretty distracting and raucous place to be at on Saturday, I know, I was there. But that is no excuse! You still need to keep your nipple(s) inside your swimsuit. For real, this girl was just hanging out of her swimsuit like it was no big deal. I couldn't believe it. I mean, there really isn’t any justification for loosing track of those babies at a public swimming pool, in Provo! This should not happen. At least not within throwing distance of BYU. Come on Peoples!

New York, where the food is delicious

Last week I went out to New York with Jon, Rob, and Sarah. Fantastic trip.

First stop on the trip was Ithaca, where we are fairly certain that the entire population is made up of middle-age hippy women. Everywhere we turned it was another wool sock wearing, homemade hat dawning, fair-trade-coffee drinking 50 to 67 year-old-woman. Even when we got onto campus, the place was teeming with them. We thought maybe Cornell had a affirmative action clause for women over the age of 50 who held a Sierra Club membership, and owned a Subaru.

By the way Ithaca is gorgeous, and in the middle of nowhere. At least I won't be distracted from my studies, right? Tim make sure you go to Boston, because I am going to need a place to stay on the weekends.

After spending the day in Ithaca we made our way down to New York City. A few facts about my experience in New York. 1. The Met is the best museum of all time. 2 New York has absolutely fantastic food. 3. If you are trying to get discount Broadway tickets for "In the Heights" for four, don't bother. It will never work.

The reasons I love the Met are the following:

I.The Met is masterfully curated. This is one of those things that you only notice once you've seen done wrong, but The Met did it right. It was well lit, Spaced out comfortably, and the pieces are accessibly displayed.

2. Little repetition. I am glaring at you Victoria and Albert in London. The Met refrained from having room after room of stuff that looked exactly the same. Two Points, Met. Good work.

3. Van Gogh, Picasso, Chuck Close, Lichtenstien, and a slew of other artists that did good by me. And I can't forget the Egyptian and Pacific Island exhibits, also great stuff. Overall it beat out all sorts of museums in London and even took down the Louvre. Okay enough Museum Talk.

II. If you ever find yourself looking for delicious food in NYC, I recommend going to John's of Bleeker Street for Pizza, and the Carnagie Deli for a Rueben and Cheesecake. Why Should you go to John's? I am glad you asked. Brick oven fired thin crust pizza, light and delicious home made sauce, and ingredients that came from a deli or market, not bulk packed in ready made packages. It was by far the best pizza I have ever had.

And the Carnagie Deli? If you love ridiculously large helpings of high quality food, this is the place for you. The four of us shared 2 entrees and took home leftovers. Now that is American.

Well those are my main thoughts about NY. I will leave you with a song. I actually heard this at the end of an episode of Chuck. I will confess, I had no idea Bon Iver had released an EP this year until I heard this song. Cheers.

Bon Iver- Blood Bank

A weird picture, and a story

Quick Story Behind the Picture
Actually, I reconsidered. I think the picture is pretty self explanatory.

Mrs. Awesome

This last weekend Scott, Johnny, Rob and I headed down south to do some riding and hiking. On Sunday we joined up with Scott's sister Christy to hike Angel's landing. About 3 in the afternoon we were all sitting at the saddle of Angels (right before the landing) when Mrs. Awesome, a middle aged woman dressed in full Utah State warm ups and Oakley sunglasses, comes running literally running up to where we are sitting. First thing out of her mouth is the exclamation "This is just AWESOME!!!"
She immediately looks down at her watch to check her split-time. Then she turns around to the apparently empty trail behind her and yells "24 minutes! The guide said 3 hours. Pshhh!"

A few seconds later a gasping Mr. Awesome lumbers over the horizon and explains, in between breaths, "Well the guide probably didn't expect you to run the entire way, Hun"

Mrs. Awesome then turns to us and asks us "Is this the top?" We shake our heads and point her towards the network of chains that take you to the top of the landing. At this point she tries to wait for her husband to catch his breath but she just can't contain the bursting fireball of energy that's inside of her.

She starts heading for the top. This marvel of a woman is definitely too entertaining to get left behind by, so we follow. We make it up the first set of chains, and it is clear that Mrs. Awesome is completely unaware that Mr. Awesome has thrown in the towel. She keeps shouting to Dennis how awesome it all is, but Dennis is camped at the bottom having none of it. We decide to politely point out the fact that Dennis is at the bottom and not heading up.

She looks back and rolls her eyes, and says "I bet he's mad at me, but I don't care."
"I am always trying to get him to do adventurous stuff like me. I even made him run up the entire trail"

What do you even say to that?

A minute or two later we get to a section of the trail where Mrs. Awesome starts to struggle a bit, so we move on ahead. We make it to the top, chilled for a while with some cool chipmunks named Petie (Pee-tee), and headed back down. About half way down the landing we run back into Mrs. Awesome. And even though she has completely stalled, her motor is still going full tilt. She tells us that she got freaked out a couple times, but she is not giving up. It is her 4th try and she is determined to summit. Then almost as a passing thought, she says "Tell Dennis that I am trying again, and this time I am going to make it!"

When we got to the bottom we looked for Dennis, but Dennis is nowhere to be found. Did he head to the car? Was he taking a nap in the bushes? No one knows. And no one can know. But Mr. Awesome, wherever you went and whatever you did, I'm cool with it. Because when you're married to Mrs. Awesome, you deserve that break, no matter what you did with it.