Ryan

Ry bio pic

I grew up in small-town Utah, close enough to Salt Lake City to hop on a half-hour bus ride to the mall, but far enough away that you could occasionally see things like babies being fed with goat’s milk, and church youth leaders roping fleeing kids with actual lassos.  We had a great life there in the shadow of Lagoon.  Until it became clear that Lagoon got a kick out of luring the local youth in, paying them far less than minimum wage, and forcing them to spend entire days working in shorts and a t-shirt in their huge freezer.  That place still gives me the chills.

Anyway, I later escaped the seamy world of Northern Utah sweatshops and made it down to college at BYU.  In Provo, I learned to pin my entire self-worth on the performance of our intramural teams, got really good at foosball, and became a leading practitioner of the art of the tapered leg. (I have it on good authority that tapered-leg jeans are cool now, and I’ll leave it to the readers to decide whether I was ahead of my time or really ahead of my time.)  Despite all of this, I still met my wife Macy, who ended up fixing it all anyway.  Macy and I got married and moved back to D.C. for law school.  All the hillbillies in Utah warned us that we’d get mugged in D.C., and we laughed at their naivete.  When we arrived in Washington, we were promptly attacked by terrorists in an airplane, anthrax in the mail, and a rampaging sniper, all in the same week, as I recall.  But no one ever mugged us (silly hillbillies).   We eventually moved back to Salt Lake City to put down roots and get away from all the ‘taxation without representation’ license plates.

So here we are in Salt Lake, with three outstanding little kids, a job at a local law firm, and an undersized house with an oversized trampoline.   I love reading, writing, college football, and competing athletically against my small children.

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