Val Patterson Obituary
Today we remember Val Patterson, who from I can gather, led a great life in Utah. If you’re not familiar with Val, please feel free to read his obituary here. Val did what I would like to do (well he did a few things), but more to the point, he wrote his own obituary. I feel like I need to gather a few more years under my fine Argentinian leather belt before I would truly be qualified to write my own obit…but please indulge me while I find a few high points with Val’s.
First, he does well by describing a little about him, where he went to school, and that he had a great wife. Where it really gets interesting is when he confesses to stealing the safe from the drive-inn back in’71. He writes it almost as if they had accused him of stealing it all along, to which he constantly denied, and is now finally admitting it. Great way to start, really grabs the reader’s attention. Next, confessing to not really having his PhD. Great story how he actually acquired it, but what is more fascinating is that no one was able to bust him on it his whole life. Think it would be easy to pass yourself off as a PhD…think again moron. I would be scared out of my mind to talk to anyone in my field, all you need to do is run into one smart guy, or one wise ass, (or one in the same) and the gig is up. To go your whole life and to be able to fool everyone, he should get an honorary PhD just for pulling that off. He then confesses to being the one that put some rocks into a geyser…not really sure why you would do that (oh wait, he grew up in Utah…ok I know why now.) I think maybe the lifetime bans might be a bit of embellishment, I can’t seem to think of anything that would get someone banned for life from Disneyland…at least back when he grew up. Now-a-days our Country is so full of pansies, you could accidentally trip Mickey and get a lifetime ban…but back in the day people were more relaxed.
I couldn’t agree more that he grew up in the best time to have grown up in America; I have always been envious of my old man since he actually got to live in the ’50’s and ’60’s. The cars were cool, the music was great, and $20 would be more than enough to get you through the weekend. Now we are a bunch of zombies all driving Honda Accords and God forbid you tell the asshole behind you to stop tailgating you, he’ll probably pull out a gun. Not to mention the fact that men were actually men back then. These guys had fought wars; they knew what it was like to be tough. Sure now the boys might be stronger thanks to steroids and a gym on every corner, but take one look at those over-tanned, over hair-gelled meat heads down on the shore and I dare you to tell me those are men.
I like how he talks about regrets. I can’t stand these people who walk around and say they have no regrets…everyone has regrets…everyone. What’s important is to limit the number you do have. Next time someone tells you they don’t have any regrets, do me a favor and smack ’em upside the head for me…because I guarantee you there was a hot chick in their 10th grade Math class that they never mustered up the courage to go talk to…everyone has regrets.
He wants no funeral or burial…just dust in the wind. Ultimately we are all just dust in the wind, it’s simply a question of when you start flying. To those of you who want a cemetery to be your final resting place…it won’t be. Do the math people, how fast is the population growing on this planet? How long do you think that valuable real estate that we waste called cemeteries will be allowed to stay unused (at least in a constructive way)? Sooner or later every one of those graves is getting dug up to make way for a high rise, or a freeway, or a Starbucks with free WiFi. We have to put the living somewhere, and when you look at the two biggest wastes of real estate on this planet, you get golf courses and cemeteries. You want to honor the dead, you don’t need to go sit in the grass in front of a rock to do it…do it by living a good life. Ask anybody you know how they want to be honored when they die, and I guarantee you not one person will tell you they want you to spend 2 hours next Sunday sitting in the lawn talking to a rock. I’m rambling a bit as I tend to do…I will continue this rant at a later date.
There is a Pabst Blue Ribbon in my fridge that will cracked tonight around 7.48…and I can tell you that I will indeed raise it up and have a sip to honor Val Patterson…that’s Dr. Val Patterson to you.